THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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J. 


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CONTRIBUTED  TO   BY 

ALL  THE  PRINCIPAL  WRITERS  IN  THE  RANKS  OF  TELEGRAPHIC 

LITERATURE, 

AS  WELL  AS   SE\T:RAL  WELL-KNOWN   OUTSIDERS. 


With  N7nne7^07cs   J/Vood-Ciit  Ilbistrations, 


NEW  YORK: 
W.     J.     JOIIXSTON,     PUBLISHER, 

No.    11    FRANKFORT    STREET. 

1877. 


Entered,  accordiiig  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  j'car  1877, 

By    W.    J.    JOHNSTON, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  in  Washington. 


6Z3I 


PREFACE. 


■♦>» 


To  the  many  thousands  scattered  over  tlie  entire  country  who  are  engaged 
or  interested  in  the  wonderful  art  of  telegraphy,  this  book  will  probably  need 
neither  preface  nor  apology.  To  the  general  reader,  however,  into  whose  hand 
it  may  fall,  it  might  be  well  to  say  that  the  telegraph  business  of  late  years  has 
made  such  rapid  progress,  and  the  number  of  its  votaries  become  so  great,  that 
the  art  seems  to  demand  a  literature  of  its  own.  The  object  of  this  volume  is  to 
present  articles  from  each  of  the  principal  telegraphic  writers,  with  a  few  on 
telegraphic  subjects  from  well-known  outsiders.  While  the  primary  object  has 
been  to  make  the  book  of  especial  interest  to  telegraphers,  an  endeavor  has 
been  made  to  avoid  all  technical  terms  and  expressions  not  understood  by  those 
unconnected  with  the  business.  For  this  reason  it  is  hoped  that  the  book  will 
be  welcomed  not  only  by  telegraphers  themselves,  but  also  find  friends  among 
the  great  outside  world  as  well. 

This  is  the  second  book  published  with  a  view  of  giving  telegraphy  a  litera- 
ture of  its  own.  The  first  was  very  successful,  and  the  indication,  judging  from 
advance  orders  and  the  interest  already  exhibited,  would  point  to  a  still  larger 
appreciation  of  this  one.  In  the  present  work  all  the  very  foremost  telegraphic 
writers  have  been  culled  from,  and  when,  for  the  purpose  of  a  comparison 
between  the  writings  of  telegraphers  and  professional  litterateurs^  outside 
writers  have  been  introduced,  such  only  have  been  chosen  as  have  already  won 
for  themselves  distinction  and  a  name  among  men  of  letters.  A  great  deal  of 
expense  has  been  incurred  in  the  preparation  of  the  book,  and  unusual  care 
taken  in  selecting  the  matter  it  contains,  and  guarding  against  typographical 
and  other  errors.  If  it  shall  meet  the  approval  of  those  for  whom  it  is  prepared, 
however,  the  labor  and  expense  will  not  have  been  expended  in  vain. 


JL-L/<B^O<i  *'  *~) 


CONTENTS 


Page. 

THE  VOLCANOGIiAPIL Joseph  Christie  ....      7 

Illuptrations.— "  'Give  thera another  turn'  urged  the  doctor"—"  But  the  Volcano"-raph  cut  him 
short."  ° 

TUB  MOXTIl  OF  MA  Y.    (Illustrated.) U    G  Adams  11 

JJIOGIiAPIlY  OF  ED  WAUD  0.  ClfASE.—CSvF  Ced.)    With  portrait 12 

A  LEAF  OF  AUTOBIOGJiAFIIY. W.P.Phillips.    (John  Oakum.')' T.!     13 

FJtOFESSOR  MOUSE  A  XJ)  THE  TELEGMAni. Benson  J.  Lossing,  LL.  D 17 

Illustration.^.— Samuel  F.  B.  Morse  (from  a  photograph  by  Sarony)— Morse's  first  Recordin"- 
Tek'jrniph— Fac-siniilo  of  tlic  lir.-,t  D:i<,nierreotype  of  the  face  made  in  America— Fac-simiie  of  the 
tirst  Telegram,  with  a  fac-simile  of  Prof.  Morse's  indorsement  of  it— Morse's  residence  at  Locust 
Grove. 

BIOGRAniY  OF  D.  C.  SHAW.    (Oxet  Gagin.)    with  portrait 28 

THE  TELEGRAPH  DISPATCH— K  Stoky  of  Telegrapuy  in  the  Early  Days J.  D.  Keid ....  29 

'TIS  BETTER  TO  HAVE  LOVED  AND  LOST. 38 

THE  SOXG  OF  THE  PLUG.-l'oEyi G.  W.  Russell....  39 

BIOGRAPHY  OF  JOSEPH  CHRISTIE.    (Werner.)    With  portrait 40 

WIVES  FOR  TWO;   or,  Joe's  Little   Joke E.  O.  Chase 41 

$1,000  REWARD.~-y\.r  Foot  Race  with  a  Telegram Ralph  W.  Pope  ....  45 

•  LEANDER'S  TOUR  OF  INVESTIGATION. D.  C.  Shaw....  49 

CONGRESSIONAL  INVESTIGATING  COMMITTEE. 51 

SONG  OF  THE  WIRE.— VoE^i  52 

SOME  GRAVE  THOUGHTS. 59 

KATE.— Ay  Electro-Mecuanic.\l  Romance Charles  Barnard,  Scribncr'' s  Monthly 53 

Illustrations.— "  A  handkerchief  is  quickly  flirted  in  the  air"— "The  girl  sat  in  the  fireman's 
hiLTliseat" — "  Kate  unrolled  the  wire,  and  he  took  it  up  "—"  She  fell  into  his  arms  senseless  and 
white." 

OUT   OF  ADJUSTMENT.— VoE^i G.  W.  Russell...,    63 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON  CRIBBS  TELEGRAM. Joseph  Christie. ...    G:i 

A  PERILOUS  CHRISTMAS  COURTSHIP,  or.  Dangerous  Telegraphy J.  M.  Maclachlan....     G.j 

PLAYING  WITH  FIRE L.  A.  C4iurchill . . . .    09 

THO  UGIITS  FOR  SERIO  US  MOMENTS 72 

A  SLIGHT  MISTAKE. L.  A.  Churchill....     74 

THE  TELEGRAPHERS  SONG J.  A.  Wyllie....     75 

THE   TE-LEG-RAPHER.    (Illustrated) ....Joseph  Christie....    75 

THE  VOW  OF  -THE  SIX  TELEGRAPH  OPERATORS. G.  W.  Russell,...    76 

SOME  OXBERIENCE  MIT  A  RAILROATS. C.  E.  Watts.    (Yosef.).  .,    90 

SCRAPES Geo.  II.  Bliss 91 

A  REMINISCENCE.    (Illustrated) Joscjjh  Christie. ...     93 

PO OR  DICK.    (Illustrated) J-  A.  Clippinger . ...     95 

THE  TELEPHONE.— I'OEM James  Walton  Jackson....     97 

CABLING  ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC. ^'* 

SNA GS. Geo.  II.  Bliss 93 

HOW  A   SIGNAL  SERVICE  MAN  LOST  HIS  SWEETHEART 101 

A  CENTENNIAL-TELEGRAPHIC  ROMANCE. W.  J.  Johnston ....  101 

BY  TELEGRAPH— Vor.yi HI 

AN  EVENING  REVERIE. W.  P.  Phillips....  112 

WHAT  CAME  OF  BEING  CAUGHT  IN  A  SNOW-STORM....  Ned  Kent....  115 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 

INTO  THEJAWS  Oi^Z»£',iri/:— A  Teleoraph  Operator's  Story II.  Van  Ilocvenbergh . . . .  118 

HAMIL  TON  B  OLESS W .  C.  C he rry . . . .  122 

SCENES  AND  INCIDENTS  IN  A  SUPERINTEXDENT'S  OFFICE Tracy  Barnes,...  123 

OUE  NIGHT  CAE. Joseph  Christie....  124 

LIGHTNING  A NECD  0 TES 127 

A.  D.  1900    (Illustrated.) J.  J.  Calahan 128 

THE  QUADRUPLEX.    (Illustrated.) Joseph  Christie....  129 

PUTTING  ''ILE''  IN  THE  BATTERIES.    (Illustrated) Joseph  Christie...,  1.30 

A  LUDICROUS  3IISTAKE 130 

THE  CARNIVAL  OF  OSHKOSH.—A  Tragedy  in  three  Acts T.  C.  Noble.  Jr.    (Chops)  ....  131 

Illustrations. — Three  full  page  pictures    .Drawn  by  J.  J.  Calahan. 


FULL  PAGE  ENGRAVINGS,  ON  TINTED  PLATE  PAPER. 

THE  TELEGRAPHER'S  DREA3I.—¥noyTisviECE Drawn  by  J.  J.  Calahan. 

THE  TELEPHONE.    (Double  page.) " 

A  DEEP  DIRE  DREADFUL  TRA GED  T  IN  THREE  A  CTS.    (Double  page.) R.  A.  Empey. 

TELEGRAPHY,  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN    (Double  page) J.  J.  Calahan. 

MANAGER'S  IN  AND  JIANAGER'S  OUT.    (Double  page.) 

SCENE  ON  A  JERSEY  RAILROAD Joseph  Christie. 

A  LULL  IN  THE  LADIES'  DEPARTMENT J.  J.  Calahan. 

SCENE  IN  THE  WESTERN  UNION  MAIN  OFFICE " 

A  SHOCKING  AFFAIR " 

POSITION  IS  EVERYTHING 

"BEWARE  THE  BANISTER  STAIRS." " 

BATTERY  ROOM  SCENE 


LiGHxmNG  Flashes  and  Electkic  Dashes. 


>  I  ^m     » 


Tlie    Volcanograph. 


The  most  casual  observer  of  our  professional 
peculiarities  is  aware  that  in  the  long  cate- 
gory of  telegraphic  offenses  none  is  con- 
sidered more  aggravating  than  "  breaking 
in"  on  a  through  press  wire.  The  habit — it 
has  grown  to  be  a  habit  now — is  cultivated 
especially  by  a  breed  of  country  lunatics 
whose  knowledge  of  "  adjustment "  is  very 
limited. 

This  much  objurgated  individual  generally 
gets  to  his  pranks  about  midnight,  when  the 
rain  is  falling  in  torrents  and  the  wire  work- 
ing "hard."  The  sending  operator,  care- 
worn and  haggard-looking,  is  still  plodding 
away,  while  at  the  other  end  of  the  line  the 
receiver  has  "  adjusted  away  out."  He  is  not 
getting  more  than  half  of  the  signals  sent, 
but  with  the  spirit  of  a  Bonaparte,  and  his 
head  bowed  down  close  to  the  instrument, 
he  is  bravely  taking  it  in,  in  the  vain  hope 
of  a  speedy  good-night.  The  two  men  know 
each  other  personally ;  they  were  out  west 
together  years  ago,  and  years  before  that 
again  they  had  earned  reputations  for  them- 
selves in  the  same  office  ;  and,  owing  to  the 
entire  confidence  which  each  puts  in  the  re- 
liability of  his  friend,  miles  of  Suj^reme  Court 
decisions,  political  speeches,  clerical  investi- 
gations, and  cables  are  literally  melting  away 
before  their  nimble  fingers.  But  just  about 
the  time  that  bright  hope  is  dawning,  here 
comes  our  "  way  "  student,  and  in  his  blind 
ignorance  of  anything  like  proper  adjustment, 
commences  to  practice ;  or,  as  he  says  him- 
self, to  "  6rac.tice." 


To  have  one  of  these  cadets  of  the  tele- 
graph practicing  at  any  time  is  bad  enough, 
but  when  the  merciless  ghoul's  rule  of  life 
is  never  to  begin  before  midnight,  and  his 
system  of  pursuing  that  variety  of  intellectu- 
al improvement  extends  no  further  than  the 
alphabet,  the  numerals,  the  various  stops  and 
commas,  and  the  headings  of  half  rate  blanks, 
it  is  infinitely  more  exasperating  and  atroci- 
ous. It  is  bad  enough  to  have  one  of  these 
hobgoblins  break  in  in  the  midst  of  a  two-col- 
umn special,  asking  all  kinds  of  unsolicited 
and  unwelcome  conundrums  as  to  what  you 
are  "  fi4ing  "  him,  etc.,  but  when  you  knoio  he 
is  not  adjusted,  and  hear  his  melancholy  "  A, 
B,  S,  K,  E,"  and  so  on,  ground  out  with  all 
the  horrors  and  uncompromising  continuity 
of  a  surgical  operation,  a  faithful  operator  is 
to  be  excused  for  courting  even  death  itself 
in  his  desire  to  be  avenged. 

Hitherto  there  has  been  no  alternative  but 
to  get  another  wire  by  some  round-about 
route,  and  to  switch  the  electric  clock  on  the 
abandoned  circuit ;  send  your  special  on  the 
former,  while  on  the  latter  the  indomitable 
plug  puts  in  the  remainder  of  the  night 
"  fighting  for  circuit "  with  the  steady  and 
unyielding  "  tick,  tick "  of  that  reliable  elec- 
tric clock,  which  he  fondly  imagines  is  some 
irate  first-class  operator. 

But  science  now  comes  to  our  relief  in  the 
shape  of  the  volcanograph,  a  2,000  cell  dyna- 
mite battery,  worked  by  a  lever  and  crank  in 
the  main  office. 

Under  ordinary  circumstances  I  am  un- 


LIGUTNING   FLASHES. 


alterably  opposed  to  the  immolation  of  even 
plugs  hy  means  of  disintegrated  battery 
jars  and  giant  sounders,  especially  since  our 
ranks  are  being  decimated  by  the  axe  of  the 
official  headsman,  but  for  once  I  must  attempt 
to  justify  a  fell  scheme  whicli  forever  abol- 
ishes that  delectable  model  of  idiotic  per- 
versity, the  embryo  i»lug.  Its  operation  is 
generally  instantaneous,  and,  therefore,  in  the 
main,  devoid  of  cruelty.  The  too  confiding 
way  station  (I  use  tlie  neuter  gender  in  the 
same  sense  that  lawyers  speak  of  "the 
Court ")  breaks  in  to  practice,  and  after  legal 
argument  has  been  exhausted,  your  cliief 
turns  on  the  volcauograph,  and  the  devasta- 
tion at  the  said  way  station  is  complete ; 
that  which  was  once  a  profusion  of  smiling 
confidence,  jocularity,  and  tribute  flowers,  is 
in  an  instant  turned  to  a  blackened  heap  of 
keys,  sounders,  relays,  and  inanimate  plug, 
and  the  good  work  of  expediting  good-night 
goes  bravely  on. 

It  was  a  bright,  sunshiny  day  when  we 
made  our  first  official  experiment  with  the 
volcanogra]jh,  but  the  rash  victim  at  Thomp- 
sonville  was  just  as  perverse  as  on  the  dreari- 
est wet  night  in  mid-winter.  His  name  was 
Junius  B.  riugg,  by  the  way — Junius  Brutus 
Plugg,  of  Butler  County,  Pennsylvania. 

He  had  his  most  intimate  friends  in  the 
office,  as  usual,  and  was  explaining  to  them, 
in  his  loftiest  style,  the  fun  of  contending  for 
circuit,  and  of  compelling  that  champion 
operator  in  the  main  office  to  humiliate  him- 
self by  meekly  "  backing  down,"  His  smoking 
friend,  the  gardener,  was  chuckling  with  de- 
light at  the  thought  of  what  wonderful  mys- 
teries his  friend,  young  Plugg,  had  fought 
and  conquered,  A  passing  young  man,  who 
had  often  heard  fairy-like  tales  of  the  tele- 
graph— indeed,  the  operator  had  recently 
crossed  him  in  love — strayed  in  at  the  door, 
and  listened  with  mingled  feelings  of  envy 
and  astonishment  to  the  running  commentarv 
on  armatures  and  rheostats  which  his  rival, 
young  Mr.  Plugg,  was  then  indulging  in. 
The  doctor  was  there,  too  !  "  The  doctor  " — 
a  mighty  individual — the  village  druggist,  and 


a  kind  of   wizard  in  the   estimation  of   the 
countryfolks;    one  who  passed  liis   life  like 
any  other  first-class  rustic    druggist,  except 
when  occasionally  a  vigorous  outburst  of  in- 
tellect led  him  to  inspect  some  such  common- 
])lace  affair  as  a  wayside  telegraph  office  ;  one 
of  those  happy  men  who  not  only  regarded 
himself  with  the  greatest  complacency  as  a 
representative  American,  but  who  was  con- 
stantly detecting  innumerable  deficiencies  in 
others.     He  was  in  the  habit  of  standing  off 
the  same  landlady  for  board  as  was  his  friend, 
young   Mr.  Plugg ;    so   that,  as    tlicy   both 
owed  astonishingly  large  bills,  and  fully  in- 
tended to  liquidate  each  other's  account  some 
day,   their    hearts   beat   in   sympathy.      As 
young  ]Mr.  Plugg  was  an  operator,  he  was, 
consequently,  "  chock"  full  of  teclmical  tele- 
graph talk,  which  the  doctor  used  to  cabbage 
and  fire  off  as  inedical  opinions  and  prescrip- 
tions at  his  patients ;  and,  as  the  doctor  was 
also  one  of  those  bright  individuals  of  an  in- 
vestigating turn  of  mind,  to  whom  the  most 
trifling  incident  was  a  prolonged  nightmare 
of    disquieting    mystery,   they   were     again 
bound  in  sympathy.  Furthermore,  as  "  Sam  " 
(that's  the  way  he  used  to  refer  to  Professor 
Morse)  was  an    intimate  personal  friend  of 
his,  and  as  the  telegraph  itself  was  merely  a 
hackney'd  familiarity  to  him  ;  and  as  he  was 
entangled  in  several  knotty  questions  at  the 
Lyceum,  and  implicated  in  countless  intricate 
and  perplexing  conundrums  propounded  an- 
onymously frum  time  to  time  in  the  weekly 
papers,  lie  had  no  hesitation  in  accepting  his 
young  friend's  humble  invitation  to  be  pre- 
sent.    He   would   learn    something,   if   that 
were  possible  ;  he  could  at  least  direct,  so  to 
speak,   the    scientific    part    of    young    Mr. 
Pluirg's  efforts  to  compel  the  main  office  to 
back   down.     He    had  brought  his   favorite 
goose  along,  a  domesticated  bird  on  the  shady 
side  of  thirty  which  he  was  fattening  on  a 
purely  scientific  principle  for   Thanksgiving 
Day  ;  a  description  of  which  and  the  fatten- 
ing principle  would  occupy  too  much  space 
in  this   sketch.     Let   it   suffice  to   chronicle 
the  important  fact  that   his  gooseship  was 


THE  rOLCANOOEAPH. 


liere,  alive  uiul  well,  and    that  the  comite- 
iiances  of    all  present   reflected  the   inward 


"  Give  them  another  tttrn,"  ttkged  the  poctor. 

feeling  of  confidence  which  was  reposed  in 
young  Mr.  Plugg  and  his  wonderfid  ma- 
chine, and,  moreover,  in  that  learned  and 
profound  thinker — the  doctor. 

The  performance  having  got  fairly  under 
way,  young  Mr.  Plugg  explained  to  his  ad- 
miring friends  that  the  main  office  had  got 
mad  and  said  "  go  away,"  and  that  he  (young 
Mr.  Plugg)  had  promptly  replied  "  73,"  a 
piece  of  witticism  which  elicited  the  most  ex- 
travagant terms  of  approbation  from  the 
brilliant  assemblage,  and  as  the  doctor  went 
into  the  most  alarming  convulsions  of  laugh- 
ter, they  all  did  likewise. 

Youno-  Mr.  Plugg  next  explained  that  the 
main  office  was  threatening  to  bombard  the 
way  stations,  a  threat  which  the  doctor  laugh- 
ed to  scorn,  remarking,  by  way  of  illustration, 
that  when  the  key  was  open  no  communica- 
tion could  be  had,  and  urging  young  Mr. 
Pluo-o-  to  "  ffive  them  another  turn."  The 
gardener,  who  couldn't  tell  a  relay  from  the 


yard  arm  of  a  ship,  was  wildly  demonstrative 
in  vouching  for  the  accuracy  of  the  doctor's 
theory.  The  young  man  at  the  door  nodded 
his  liumble  assent,  well  satisfied  with  the 
doctor's  proposal,  and  the  favorite  goose  on 
the  shady  side  of  thirty  flapped  his  feather- 
less  wings  with  delight  at  the  prospect. 
Young  Mr.  Plugg,  feeling  that  he  was  being 
lured  on  to  deeds  of  greater  glory,  proceeded 
to  "give  them  another  turn,"  as  the  doctor 
expressed  it,  but  the  volcanograjih  cut  him 
short,  and  the  next  moment  Philadelphia  was 
again  hurrying  his  special  to  Chicago,  with- 
out the  slightest  resistance  on  the  part  of 
Junius  Brutus  Plugg,  of  Butler  County, 
Pennsylvania. 

There  was  a  green  Irishman  on  the  roof  fix-, 
ing  a  leaky  spot,  and  as  the  blazing  liquid  brass 
came  whizzing  through  he  mused  on  tele- 
graphs in  general,  and  wondered  if  it  wasn't 
a  hazardous  business  to  work  at.  Not  fully 
comprehending  the  situation,  he,  of  course, 


But  the  Volcanograph  cut  him  shoet. 

thought  the  racket  was   all  in  the   regular 
course   of   telegraphic  events,  and  watched 


10 


LIGUTNINQ  FLASHES. 


with  much  curiosity  the  old  bootlegs  and 
broken  office  furniture  and  copies  of  "  Oak- 
xim  Pickings"  that  came  whanging  through 
the  shingles  nntil  they  shot  out  of  sight  sky- 
ward, and  then  he  wondered  how  long  it 
would  take  those  "  messages  "  to  reach  New 
York. 

The  young  man  at  the  door  fared  pretty 
well — simply  because  he  \oas  at  the  door — 
and  any  one  who  saw  him  two  minutes  after 
he  had  been  at  the  door,  skipping  through  a 
corn-iield  with  a  hole  shot  in  his  coat,  would 
be  convinced  that  he  was  fully  impi-essed 
with  the  solemn  fact ;  although  lie  still 
thought  it  was  a  put  up  job  on  the  part  of  Mr. 
Plugg  and  a  certain  fair  but  faithless  one. 

The  learned  doctor  arose  from  a  distant  cor- 
ner with  a  very  kind  but  supernaturally  sober 
expression  on  his  ftice,  remarking  that  young 
men  should  not  be  allowed  to  tamper  with 
those  carbon  batteries,  especially  in  an  at- 
mosphere filled  with  oxygen,  where  they  ex- 
panded to  9,000  their  ordinary  bulk,  and  ex- 
plaining to  nobody  in  particular  that  there 
Lad  been  too  inuch  nitro-genic  tension  on  the 
electro-motor.  Indeed,  so  much  taken  np 
was  he  with  the  losjarimths  and  abstruse 
technicalities  of  the  subject  that  he  never 
noticed  that  one  side  of  his  whiskers  had  been 
blasted  oif  nntil  the  Irishman,  who  was  then 
looking  down  in  horror  through  a  hole  in  the 
ceilinc:,  called  his  attention  to  that  trifling 
circumstance.  This  information  seemed  to 
make  him  still  more  dignified,  and  noticing 
the  dead  goose  (the  poor  creature  on  the 
shady  side  of  thirty  was  stark  and  dead)  he 
stooped,  seized  it  by  the  feet,  slung  its  car- 
cass over  his  shoulder,  and  with  measured 
tread  and  all  due  devotional  sadness  de- 
parted. 

The  gardener,  who  had  been  hit  with  seven- 
teen million  volts  of  dynamite  battery  in 
seventeen  hundred  different  places  inside  of  a 
second  of  time,  and  had  lost  his  pipe  and  a 
new  Sunday  hat  beside,  without  knowing  def- 
initely what  had  struck  him,  was  seen  shortly 
afterward  on  the  grocery  corner  denouncing 
his  late  friend,  young  Mr.  Plugg,  as  a  "  gol 


darned  fraud,"  and  exhibiting  his  nose 
(which  was  a  shocking  wreck)  to  a  sympa- 
thizing crowd  in  proof  of  that  sweeping-  ac- 
cusation. The  people  smiled  at  each  other 
and  winked,  for  several  of  them  had  seen  the 
doctor  staggering  home  with  a  dead  goose 
slung  over  his  shoulder,  and,  therefore,  they 
were  not  quite  sure  that  it  wasn't  another 
"jamboree." 

Years  have  rolled  by  'since  then.  Junius 
Brutus  Plugg,  of  Butler  County,  Pennsyl- 
vania, lias  left  the  business  long  ago,  and 
he  now  drives  a  team.  His  face  is  forever 
scarred  and  streaked  with  blue  jiowder 
marks  like  the  tattoo  embellishments  on  a 
South  Sea  Island  warrioi'.  His  nervous  sys- 
tem has  been  affected  for  many  a  j'car,  and 
he  is  alwa3'S  worrj'ing  about  sudden  acci- 
dents. He  resides  with  his  wife  and  children 
on  the  western  shore  of  the  Delaware  Bay,  in 
the  sixteen-inch  steel  turret  of  a  monitor  vessel 
which  was  wrecked  near  there ;  and  has 
built  himself  a  barricade  all  around  and  an 
iron  hurricane  deck  in  front,  to  keep  off  the 
mosquitoes,  so  he  says. 

Often  on  a  bleak  winter's  night,  after  all 
the  young  Pluggs  have  been  dragged  in 
through  the  port-holes  to  supper,  he  tells  them 
queer  anecdotes  of  the  past ;  and  in  the  mul- 
tiplicity of  subjects  discussed  on  such  occa- 
sions never  fails  to  get  in  his  well  known 
disquisition  on  the  falsity  and  absurdity  of 
modern  inventions.  Telegraphing,  as  he  as- 
serts, is  a  creditable  occupation,  but  on  the 
whole,  he  prefers  his  present  occupation — 
driving  a  non-explosive  machine.  He  tells 
the  admiring  young  crowd  that  he  was  once 
an  operator,  and,  thank  goodness,  can  lay 
the  flatterinor  unction  to  his  soul  that  in  his 
time  he  worked  as  fast  as  the  best  of  them. 
He  had  received  from  New  York  for  three 
days  and  two  nights  at  a  stretch  without  a 
break,  and  made  $173  extra  in  one  month. 
His  writing  used  to  go  clear  as  a  bell  through 
seven  repeaters.  He  never  stuck  but  once, 
and  that  was  prior  to  '68.  Then  there's  a 
long  and  painful  silence,  while  the  hot  tears 
roll  down  the  veteran's  powder-marked  face, 


THE  MONTH  OF  MAT. 


11 


gets  in  her  favorite  solilo- 


and  his  daughter 

quy  on  "  never  till  life  and  memoiy  perish." 

It  takes  the  old  man  a  long  time,  tocrether 
with  many  a  strong  dose  from  the  domestic 
Btore  of  applejack,  to  compose  himself;  but 


as  he  reaches  over  the  table  for  the  last  piece 
of  custard  pie,  he  gives  his  eldest  son  Junius 
a  terrific  back-handed  whack  in  the  jaw  in 
answer  to  an  innocent  request  to  elucidate 
the  mysteries  of  the  volcanograph. 


CrPHER  messages  are  always  more  or  less  perplex- 
ing to  the  telegraphic  fraternity,  but  the  following 
one  proved  to  be  above  the  average.  A  gentleman 
recently  stepped  into  a  telegraph  ofBce  in  one  of  the 
large  cities  in  Missouri,  wrote  out  the  following 
message  to  be  sent  to  an  eastern  city,  and  handed  it 
to  the  operator,  who  is  a  lady :  "  Darling,  kick 
glutton  to-day."  The  lady  gazed  at  it  in  amaze- 
ment, nor  was  her  surprise  any  the  less  when  a  re- 


ply was  received  which  said,  "  Kiss  glutton  to-day." 
The  gentleman  called  for  his  reply,  whereupon  the 
lady  closely  examined  his  appearance,  wondering 
whether  his  mind  was  not  impaired.  He  realized 
the  situation,  and  in  a  few  words  explained  that  the 
first  message  as  understood  by  the  firm  would 
read,  "  325  brls.  must  be  shipped  to  —  to-day,"  and 
the  reply,  "  "Will  ship  to  —  to-day."  The  explana- 
tion proved  satisfactory,  and  both  enjoyed  the  joke. 


13 


LIGIITXIXG  FLASHED 


Edward  O.   Chase   (Niif  Ced) 


Was  bom  in  Philadelphia.  He  first  turned  his  at- 
tention to  telej^raphy  while  employed  on  the  en- 
gineer corps  of  the  Pennsylvania  Railroad  in  1865. 
In  the  summer  of  '67  he  joined  a  party  of  United 
States  engineers,  and  with  them  went  to  Nebraska 
to  make  a  geological  survey  of  that  Territory.  Re- 
turning home  the  following  winter  he  then  began 
the  actual  business  of  telegraphing,  securing  a  posi- 
tion as  operator  and  clerk  for  the  Pennsylvania  yteel 
Company  at  their  works  at  Baldwin  Station  near 
Harrisburg,  Pa.  He  remained  at  this  place  during 
the  winter  months,  but  in  the  early  summer  of  '68 
a  recurrence  of  the  fever  and  ague,  contracted  the 
previous  season  in  the  region  of  the  head  waters  of 
the  Missouri,  compelled  his  resignation  and  obliged 
him  to  go  north.  He  next  turns  up  as  operator  in 
Portsmouth,  N.  II.,  on  the  line  of  the  now  defunct 
International  Telegraph  Company,  which  was  ab- 
sorbed by  the  Western  Union  in  1873.  At  the 
close  of  the  year  he  was  promoted  to  the  main  ofBce 
of  the  same  company  in  Portland,  Maine,  and  next 
went  to  Augusta  as  report  operator,  engaged  in 
transmitting  to  Portland  and  Boston  the  reports  of 
the  State  Legislature. 

Returning  to  Portland  at  the  end  of  the  session, 
he  soon  after  resigned  his  position  and  accepted  the 
managership  of  the  summer  office  of  the  W.  U.  at 
Crawford  House,  White  Mountains.  At  the  close 
of  the  season  he  was  ordered  to  Portland  ^Y■  U. 
office,  and  late  in  the  fall  of  '68  was  sent  to  Bangor, 


Maine,  as  night  manager  and  press  receiver,  which 
position  he  filled  to  the  satisfiiction  of  all  concerned 
until  July  5th,  1873,  when  night  work  having  re- 
sulted in  failing  health,  his  resignation  took  effect 
and  he  left  the  business  to  return  home  and  accept 
the  assistant  secretaryship  of  tlie  American  Iron  and 
Steel  Association  of  Philadelphia,  where  his  duties 
consisted  chiefly  in  the  editorship  of  the  bulletin  of 
the  association  during  the  absence  of  the  secretary. 
In  the  spring  of  '73  he  had  a  relapse  of  the  old  un- 
easiness and  returned  to  his  first  love,  this  time  as 
operator  at  the  Ocean  House  summer  office  of  the 
Western  Union  at  Newport,  R.  I.  At  the  close  of 
the  season  he  entered  into  the  manufactory  of  ma- 
chinists' tools  and  light  machinery,  as  manager  of 
his  father's  factory  in  Newark,  N.  J.,  which  position 
he  still  occupies,  only  having  left  it  to  assume  the 
position  of  chief  operator  at  Saratoga  Springs, 
N.  Y.,  Western  Union  office  during  the  seasons  of 
1874  and  '75.  In  '76  he  declined  many  telegraphic 
offers  to  attend  the  Centennial  as  exhibitor  in  Ma- 
chinery Hall  aud  correspondent  of  The  Operator. 
Mr.  Chase  is  widely  known  among  the  fraternity 
as  an  amiable  gentleman  of  much  culture  of  mind, 
and  possessing  social  and  literary  talents  of  a  high 
order.  As  a  telegrapher  he  is  recognized  as  a  first- 
class  man  in  every  respect.  May  his  original  and 
humorous  articles  long  continue  to  grace  the  col- 
umns of  The  Oi'EIUTOR,  aud  may  his  shadow  never 
be  less. 


A  Leaf  of  Autohiof/raiiliy, 


"If  you  will  come  over  and  see  Sanderson 
right  away,"  wrote  my  friend,  the  managing 
editor  of  The  Plantation  Harbinger,  "  I 
think  you  can  obtain  the  position  of  local 
editor.  Gregory  has  lit  out."  Sanderson  was 
the  proprietor  of  The  Harbinger,  and  I  was 
a  new  comer  in  the  journalistic  field  who 
wanted  work,  so  I  went  in  pursuit  of  him. 
I  met  Gregory  on  my  Avay  over  and  asked 
him  what  was  the  trouble,  and  where  he  was 
going. 

"  To  Boston,"  he  answered.  "  Sanderson 
does  not  pay  his  help." 

"  Why,"  I  returned,  "  his  managing  editor, 
Mr.  Fenceslat,  has  just  Avritten  me  a  note 
asking  me  to  cro  and  see  Sanderson  about 
the  situation  you  have  vacated.  He  said 
nothing  about  bad  pay,  simply  stating  that 
you  had  '  lit  out.' " 

"  Fenceslat  is  in  the  ring,"  observed  Greg- 
ory, significantly,  and  he  hastened  in  the 
direction  of  the  Boston  depot. 

It  was  with  my  enthusiasm  considerably 
abated  that  I  entered  the  presence  of  Mr. 
Sanderson.  I  knew  him  slightly  ;  his  rotund 
form  and  genial  face,  in  connection  with  a 
stub-tailed  horse  and  Concord  wagon  being 
familiar  to  about  every  man  woman  and  child 
in  town.  He  was  a  person  who  never  wholly 
lost  his  aplomb  under  the  most  discouraging 
circumstances,  as  I  afterward  learned,  and 
Avho,  under  ordinary  conditions,  was  a  per- 
fect Chesterfield.  It  will  be  a  good  many 
years  into  the  future  before  I  shall  have  for- 
gotten the  cordial  grasp  he  gave  my  hand 
and  the  benignant  smile  which  played  upon 
his  lips  as  he  said: 

"  Mr.  Fenceslat's  heart  is  set  upon  having 
you  come  on  our  paper  as  local  editor.  I 
have  studied  with  great  care  such  occasional 
work  as  you  have  done  for  us.  It  is  exceed- 
ingly good.  I  am  a  man  of  few  words,  Mr. 
Phillips.  I  like  you.  I  want  you  to  like  me. 
I  do  business  on  the  square.  I  will  pay 
you  twenty  dollars   per  week,  and  you  get 


your  cash  every  Saturday."  Afterward  I 
learned  that  Sanderson  never  read  a  line  in 
his  paper  unless  his  attention  was  called  to 
sometlung,  and  he  read  it  then  under  protest. 
I  learned  a  great  deal  during  the  next  year, 
but  of  that  hereafter. 

"  Mr.  Gregory  said — " 

"  One  moment,"  interrupted  Sanderson, 
"  see  you  again  in  a  second,"  and  he  went  to  his 
desk  and  making  a  note  for  thirty  days  sent  it 
to  the  bank.  Before  I  could  resume  my 
story  about  Gregory,  Sanderson  said  : 

"  I  never  like  to  talk  about  a  man  behind 
his  back.  But  here  are  the  facts  in  a  nutshell: 
Mr.  Gregory  is  a  good  fellow,  sharj)  writer  and 
all  that,  but  he  is  extravagant.  He  has 
drawn  his  salary  in  advance  ever  since  he 
came  here  from  New  Haven.  Yesterday  he 
wanted  me  to  advance  him  a  hundred  dollars. 
I  declined,  and  he  is  gone,  thank  fortune. 
It  is  a  good  paymaster  who  pays  when  the 
work  is  done.  I  do  that.  I  am  willing  to 
pay  one  or  two  weeks'  salary  in  advance, 
but  I  can't  furnish  money  to  everybody  who 
comes  along  in  quantities  to  suit — like  to  ac- 
commodate, you  know,  but  it  isn't  business, 
and  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  do  it  without 
cramping  myself.  Another  thing,"  he  went  on 
glibly,  "  Gregory's  wife  is  afraid  of  thunder 
and  lightning,  and  every  time  a  shower  comes 
along  off  he  goes  home — no  matter  if  it's  only 
eight  o'clock.  Now,  the  local  editor  of  a 
morning  paper  can't  go  home  at  eight  o'clock 
in  the  evening  and  do  justice  to  the  city  de- 
partment. I  tolerated  this  because  I  wished 
the  man  well,  but  you  know  how  'tis  your- 
self. There  comes  a  straw  one  day  that 
breaks  the  camel's  back,  and  Gregory's  con- 
stant hypothecation  of  his  salary  and  his  at- 
tempts to  browbeat  me  into  lending  him 
large  sums  have  done  the  business  for  him." 

After  a  great  nmnber  of  compliments  on 
my  lively  way  of  writing,  and  no  end  of  as- 
surances that  if  a  man  did  not  "impose  on 
him  unreasonably  it  was  all  right,"  I  left  the 


14 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


mighty  presence  with  a  very  high  regard  for 
Sanderson  and  a  very  seriously  changed  heart 
toward  ray  avaricious  predecessor.  And  if 
Gregory's  rapacity  in  seeking  to  do  a  sort  of 
free  banking  with  his  employer  hadn't  settled 
him  in  my  estimation,  his  habit  of  going 
home  "  in  the  midst  of  a  murder,"  as  San- 
derson said,  "  if  a  thunderstorm  came  up," 
would  have  done  the  business  for  him  of  it- 
self. I  had  engaged  myself  for  one  year  at 
twenty  dollars  per  week,  and  began  work  the 
next  day.  As  I  had  only  worked  half  a 
week  when  pay-day  came  I  thought  it  wiser 
to  let  the  amount  lie  until  the  next  Saturday, 
and  I  did  so.  As  my  hours  were  from  seven 
r.  M.  to  two  or  three  a.  m.,  and  as  Sanderson 
seldom,  if  ever,  visited  the  editoi'ial  rooms 
at  night,  I  did  not  see  liim  from  one  end  of 
the  week  to  the  other.  Occasionally  I 
visited  the  counting  room  to  find  it  in  charge 
of  a  supremely  saucy  boy,  who  sat  on  a  high 
stool  and  shrilly  whistled,  and  who  invariably 
answered  the  question,  "  When  will  Sander- 
son be  in  ?  "  with  a  grunt,  which  the  practiced 
ear  i-ecognized  as  "  give  it  up."  But  though 
I  saw  him  not,  Sanderson  sent  me  numerous 
kind  messages  during  the  week,  and  finally, 
at  the  bottom  of  one  of  his  pleasant  notes, 
he  wrote  :  "  Didn't  see  you  Saturday  ;  money 
waiting  for  you."  On  receipt  of  that  missive 
so  great  was  my  confidence  in  his  intecjrity 
I  would  have  lent  him  a  thousand  dollars 
could  I  have  raised  it.  When  Saturday  arrived 
I  went  to  the  counting  room  and  ran  up- 
stairs with  a  light  step.  Sanderson  was  not 
in,  and  several  persons  with  anxious  faces 
were  in  waiting.  To  my  question  as  to  when 
Mr.  Sanderson  would  be  in,  the  shrill  whistler 
grunted  as  usual,  and  as  I  seemed  at  a  loss 
what  to  say,  he  volunteered  the  remark : 
"  Don't  pay  ofF  till  two  o'clock." 
The  city  clock  struck  eleven  as  I  passed 
down  stairs  and  out  upon  the  busy  street.  I 
felt  very  sure  about  Sanderson,  but  I  had 
my  doubts  about  the  boy,  Creeks.  He  was 
becoming  a  thorn  in  my  side  with  his  stereo- 
typed "  give  it  up,"  and  liis  disturbing  re- 
marks.    I  was  positive  he  misrepresented  Mr. 


Sanderson,  and  took  advantage  of  his  absence 
to  snub  and  render  uncomfortable  not  only 
employes,  but  also  patrons  of  the  paper.  I 
determined  to  speak  to  Mr.  Sanderson  about 
him  and  have  him  admonished — annihilated, 
if  possible. 

I  returned  to  the  office  at  five  minutes  past 
two  o'clock  to  find  the  little  countinGT  room 
crowded  with  compositors,  pressmen,  report- 
ers, editors,  route  boys,  bootblacks,  and  a 
great  many  others.  As  I  peered  over  the 
sea  of  shoulders  my  eyes  caught  tliose  of  San- 
derson, and  he  shouted,  "  Make  room  there 
for  Mr.  Phillips."  As  I  approached  the  desk 
Sanderson  dipped  a  pen,  put  his  chubby  fin- 
ger where  he  wished  me  to  sign,  and  before  I 
had  scarcely  finished  my  name  he  placed 
thirty  dollars  before  me.  I  stepped  aside  to 
make  room  for  Dr.  Flowers,  our  foreman, 
who  had  just  came  in,  but  I  did  not  retire,  as 
I  wished  to  consult  Sanderson  about  several 
matters  which  struck  me  as  being  of  vital  im- 
portance to  The  Harbinger's  welfare.  As  I 
stood  waiting  I  observed  that  Dr.  Flowers' 
youthful  face  wore  an  expression  much 
crraver  than  I  had  ever  seen  there  before.  I 
was  surprised  that  no  pen  was  dipped  for 
him  to  sign  with,  and  that  Sanderson  re- 
quested no  one  to  "  make  room  for  Dr. 
Flowers."  The  doctor  was  admitted  behind 
the  counter  after  a  few  seconds  and  Sanderson 
whispered  with  him  earnestly.  Then  a  ten 
dollar  note  was  handed  him,  and  lie  walked 
out  looking  very  severe.  I  saw  it  all.  Dr. 
Flowers  had  been  drawing  his  salary  in  ad- 
vance, and  Sanderson  would  only  be  imposed 
upon  within  reasonable  bounds.  He  had 
given  the  doctor  ten  dollars,  which  was  gen- 
erous under  the  circumstances.  My  heart 
warmed  toward  him  for  his  liberality.  Next 
came  Henry  Child,  the  news  editor. 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  Henry  ?  "  in- 
quired Sanderson. 

"  Let  me  have  twenty,  said  Child,  "  rent 

due." 

"  Sorry,  but  I  can't  do  it,  Henry,"  returned 
Sanderson,  in  the  blandest  tones  imaginable. 
"  Here,"  he  added,  "  is  two  dollars  in  pennies. 


A  LEAF  OF  AUTOBIOGUAPUT. 


V. 


Now  git."  I  had  no  doubt  Henry  Child  had 
overdrawn  his  salary  by  several  hundred 
dollars,  and  his  assurance  in  coming  to  ask 
for  money  at  all  surprised  and  pained  me. 

The  next  Saturday  Mr,  Sanderson  paid  me 
with  less  alacrity,  and  I  noticed  that  he  ad- 
dressed me  by  ray  given  name.  A  week 
later  he  said  '*  Wally,  old  boy,  here's  fifteen 
dollars  for  you,  can't  make  change  any  nearer. 
Hand  you  the  other  five  Monday,"  and 
upon  my  third  appearance  he  simply  handed 
me  a  ten  dollar  note  with  the  observation : 
"  Here  you  go,  Pliil,  hang  up  the  other  ten 
with  that  five  I  owe  you  on  last  week." 

"  But  what  kind  of  a  way  to  do  business 
is  this?  "I  asked. 

"  Oh,  run  along,  sonny,"  said  Sanderson, 
with  a  smile ;  "  no  time  to  '  yawp  '  on  the 
day  pi-eceding  the  peaceful  Sabbath.  Come 
in  any  day  but  Saturday  and  we  will  talk 
matters  ujx" 

I  walked  out  considerably  down  in  the 
mouth.  "  Come  in  any  day  but  Saturday  " 
was  refreshing  in  the  extreme.  As  if  I 
liadn't  visited  his  office  day  after  day  to  talk 
about  the  feasibility  of  having  another  re- 
porter added  to  our  iorce,  and  been  met  by  that 
incorrigible  whistler  whose  "  give  it  up  "  had 
become  a  perfect  nightmare.  Mr.  Sanderson 
was  seldom  in,  though  I  found  during  my 
periods  of  watching  and  waiting  that  very 
few  men  were  in  greater  demand. 

On  making  my  fifth  appearance  as  I  reached 
for  a  pen  my  employer  said :  "  You  needn't 
sign  that  book,  Phil." 

"  Not  sign  !  "  I  ejaculated,  thoroughly  non- 
plussed. 

"  Xo ;  money  about  all  gone.  Have  to 
pay  the  compositors  or  they  won't  go  to  work 
Sunday  night — have  no  paper  Monday.  You 
and  Child  and  Flowers  get  three  dollars  apiece 
to-day,  and  that  settles  your  hash.  Members 
of  the  intellectual  department  are  supposed 
to  work  for  fame,  not  money."  He  handed 
me  three  dollars,  and  inquired  if  I  would 
liko  to  go  to  the  Theodore  Thomas  concert 
that  evening.  Replying  in  the  aftirmativc,  he 
passed  me   two   complimentary  tickets,  and 


dashed  down  stairs.  A  moment  later  he  was 
gathering  up  the  reins  which  had  fallen 
under  the  feet  of  the  stub-tailed  horse,  and  I 
sat  watching  him  as  one  in  a  trance. 

"  Creeks !    Creeks  !  "  called  Sanderson. 

Creeks  made  a  break  in  the  tune  he  had 
been  whistling  ever  since  I  knew  liim,  and 
going  to  the  window  responded,  "  Aye,  aye." 

"Charge  Phillips  with  six  dollars — three 
cash,  and  three  for  those  Thomas  concert 
tickets,"  said  Sanderson.  And  then  he  drove 
away. 

To  say  that  I  was  enraged  as  I  tore  up 
street,  but  feebly  expresses  the  intemperate 
frame  of  mind  in  which  1  found  myself  after 
all  this.  I  soon  met  Flowers  and  Child  and 
began  ray  tale  of  woe.  They  stopped  rae  at 
once  and  said :  "  So  he's  landed  yoii  too,  eh?" 
Give  us  your  hand."  I  felt  that  congratula- 
tions were  not  by  any  means  in  order,  but  I 
raechanically  put  forth  ray  hand  and  both 
shook  it  warmly.  They  knew  that  I  had 
"joined  the  band." 

I  staid  on  The  Harhinger  a  whole  year, 
and  with  the  exception  of  such  payments  as 
I  have  mentioned,  I  never  received  a  dollar 
in  cash.  AVhy  I  remained  I  can  not  explain. 
Fenceslat,  who  had  once  visited  Sanderson 
with  the  determination  of  squeezing  fifty 
dollars  out  of  him,  was  assuaged  with  an 
"  order  "  for  a  grindstone  ;  but  in  the  face  of 
this  asking  for  money  and  receiving  a  stone, 
Fenceslat  still  stuck  to  the  paper,  and  "  sali- 
vated the  Republican  party,"  as  he  expressed 
it,  months  and  months  after  his  labor  had 
ceased  to  bring  shekles.  Flowers  and  Child, 
the  ancient  and  j)recise  ship  news  reporter — 
God  bless  you  all — and  many  others  were 
doina:  the  same  thinrj  and  wonderinij  at  it, 
TJiere  was  something  in  the  atmosphere  of 
The  Harbinf/er  oftice  which  had  a  mollifying 
efiV;ct  on  everybody  who  entered  Sanderson's 
service,  and  at  the  end  of  two  months  I  found 
myself  very  avcII  contented  with  my  lot,  a  i)op- 
ular  man  around  town,  and  tlie  possessor  of 
more  furniture,  curtains,  cooking  stoves,  etc., 
which  I  had  taken  from  Sanderson  or  pur- 
chased on  his  "orders,"  than  I  knew  what  to 


10 


LIGUTNING   FLASHES. 


do  will).  AVlien  I  had  been  with  liim  six 
months,  I  was  one  day  in  sore  need  of  money 
and  sout^ht  liis  office.  Luckily  T  found  him 
in,  and  I  state^l  my  case  witli  an  eloquence 
that  oui>'ht  to  liave  moved  him.  IJut  it  didn't. 
He  listened  patiently  until  I  had  closed,  and 
then  replied:  "Haven't  a  dollar,  but," 
pointing  to  a  corner,  "  there  are  two  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  of  galvanized  iron  clothes  line 
that  I  took  on  an  advertisement  Avhich  l"!! 
sell  you  cheap."     I  retired,  heart-broken. 

3Ir.  Sanderson  was  a  man  of  "orders." 
There  was  nothing  under  the  canopy  "from 
a  rotten  apple  to  a  locomotive,"  as  he  phrased 
it,  which  he  could  not  furnish  on  call  or  give 
an  "order"  for.  "I  get  a  man  to  advertise 
in  IVie  Ilarhhujer  as  a  general  thing,"  he  ex- 
]ilained,  "on  the  strength  of  my  offerijig  to 
take  my  pay  out  in  trade..  Then  I  send  you 
or  Child  or  Flowers  or  Fenceslat  and  buy 
about  fifty  dollars  worth,  and  I  keep  buying 
so  that  I  am  always  ahead  of  that  man.  He 
wants  to  take  his  advertisement  out  at  the 
end  of  three  months,  but  he  can  not  do  it 
because  I  am  owing  him.  Had  men  in  this 
paper  several  years  in  just  that  way.  Once 
in  a  while  a  man  gets  mad  and  I  have  to 
square  up  with  him  in  cash  and  let  him  take 
his  advertisement  out,  but  that  don't  often 
happen." 

It  happened  sometimes,  however,  when  I 
was  ])resent,  and  it  was  then  that  Sanderson's 
abilities  shone  resplendent.  The  reader  must 
have  surmised  that  Sanderson  was  always  short 
of  ready  money.  He  was.  So  when  one  of 
these  troublesome  advertisers  came  along  and 
demanded  a  settlement,  Sanderson  would 
meet  him  somethinu:  as  follows: 

"  I  owe  you  a  balance  of  679.85.  I  have 
no  money,  but  I'll  give  you  my  note  for 
thirty  days.  Put  it  in  your  bank,  get  her 
discounted,  and  I'll  pay  the  discount.  Just 
as  good  as  cash." 

To  this  the  party  of  the  other  part  would 
assent,  and  Sanderson  would  draw  up  a  note 
in  very  pretty  shape,  and  bringing  it  over 
would  say : 

"  I've  made  this  note  for  a  hundred  and 


fifty  dollars  because  I  make  all  my  notes  for 
a  round  sum.  You  get  it  discounted  and 
send  me  your  check  for  the  balance.  Here, 
Creeks,  go  down  with  Mr.  Blank  and  bring 
back  a  check."  And  before  the  astonished  re- 
cipient of  the  note  could  recover  his  ecpiipose, 
Sanderson  would  have  bowed  him  out  of  the 
room. 

Sometimes  the  men  who  accepted  these 
jtromises  to  pay,  and  gave  checks  which  could 
be  used  immediately,  found  themselves  in  a 
rather  embarrassed  situation  Avhen  the  notes 
matured.  Sanderson  Avas  one  of  those  men  who 
imagined  that  it  added  dignity  and  character 
to  a  i)romissory  note  to  let  it  go  to  protest. 
Thus  it  would  often  happen  that  after  the 
disaffected  advertiser  had  enjoyed  the  felicity 
of  paying  Sanderson's  note,  and  had  visited 
the  whistler  fifteen  or  twenty  times  without 
even  getting  a  sight  of  the  object  of  his 
search,  I  would  receive  a  letter  from  Sander- 
son instructing  me  to  write  a  third  of  a 
column  notice  puffing  the  business  of  the 
man  to  whom  the  note  had  been  given. 
When  this  appeared,  Sanderson  would  drive 
to  the  store  of  his  whilom  customer,  and  lay- 
ing The  Ilarhinger  before  him  would  say  : 

"It's  the  biggest  kind  of  a  shame  that  I 
haven't  taken  up  that  note,  but  I  have  notr 
had  the  money.  I  haven't  it  now,  but  if  it 
would  give  you  any  satisfaction  to  kick  me  you 
are  at  liberty  to  do  it,"  and  he  would  present 
himself  for  chastisement. 

I  believe,  however,  that  he  Avas  never 
kicked.  After  this  the  editorial  notice,  Avhicli 
I  had  written  the  night  before,  Avould  be  read 
as  Sanderson's  own  production,  and  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten  that  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
Avould  eventually  be  taken  out  in  advertising. 
And  the  men  thus  won  over  never  deserted 
him.     They  had  met  the   enemy   and   they 

were  his. 

Many  years  have  pa-ssed  since  I  wrote  my 
last  line  for  71ie  Harbinger^  but  sometimes, 
sitting  in  the  twilight,  the  remembrance  of 
those  old  days  comes  back  with  such  start- 
ling force  that  it  seems  as  if  the  atmosphere 
of  that  dingy  editorial  room  was  still  around 


PROFESSOR  MORSE  AND   TUB  TELEORAPII. 


17 


mc,  and  I  half  imagine  I  see  Child  and 
Flowers  and  all  the  rest  filing  up  the  nar- 
row stairway  thankful  for  the  little  Sander- 
son has  for  them.  I  know  they  are  all  scat- 
tered, that  the  thundering  j)ress  whose 
clangor  was  as  music  to  my  youthful  cars 
is  stilled  forever,  and  tliat  IVie  Harbin- 
ger's precarious  existence  is  ended.  Still, 
I  remember  it  kindly,  for  with  its  life   are 


associated  some  of  the  pleasantest  episodes 
in  mine.  And  Sanderson  !  In  the  grand 
cavalcade  of  life  insuratice  canvassers  ho 
has  taken  a  prominent  place.  Writing  me 
recently  he  said  :  "  At  present  I  am  work- 
ing and  talking  that  mankind  in  general 
may  achieve  for  itself  a  grand  beneficent 
destiny,  by  providing  for  its  widows  and 
or{)hans." 


Professor  Morse  and  the  Telef/rajih. 


SAMUEL  F.   D.   MORSE. 


In  the  year  iSii,  Benjamin  West,  the  Pres- 
ident of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Fine  Arts, 
and  then  past  seventy  years  of  age,  was  en- 
joying the  noontide  splendor  of  his  fame  as 
the  great  historical  painter  of  England.  Dur- 
ing his  presidency  the  Academy  had  a  high 
reputation,  for  he  was  an  eminent  instructor, 
and  young  men  from  many  lands  went  to  it  to 
learti  wisdom  in  Art. 

On  a  bright  autumnal  morning  in  the  year 
just  mentioned.  West's  beloved  American 
friend,    Washington  AUston,   entered  the  re- 


ception-room of  the  venerable  painter,  and 
presented  to  him  a  slender,  handsome  young 
man,  whose  honest  expression  of  countenance, 
rich  brown  hair,  dark  magnetic  eyes  and  cour- 
tesy of  manner,  made  a  most  favorable  im- 
pression upon  the  president.  This  young 
man  was  Samuel  Fixley  Breese  Morse. 
He  was  then  little  more  than  nineteen 
years  of  age,  and  a  recent  graduate  of  Yale 
College.  He  was  the  eldest  son  of  Rev. 
Jedediah  Morse,  an  eminent  New  England 
divine  and  geographer.     Rev,  Samuel  Finley, 


18 


ZIGIiryjSG  FLASHES. 


D.D.,  the  second  president  of  the  College  of 
New  Jersey  at  Princeton,  was  his  maternal 
great-grandfather,  from  whom  he  inherited 
the  first  portion  of  his  name.  Breese  was  the 
maiden  name  of  his  mother. 

At  a  very  early  age  young  A  Torse  showed 
tokens  of  taste  and  genius  for  art.  At  fifteen 
he  made  his  first  composition.  It  was  a  good 
picture,  in  water  colors,  of  a  room  in  his  fa- 
ther's house,  with  the  family — his  parents, 
himself  and  two  brothers — around  a  table. 
That  pleasing  picture  hangs  in  his  late  home 
in  New  York,  by  the  side  of  his  last  painting. 
From  that  period  he  desired  to  become  a  pro- 
fessional artist,  and  that  desire  haunted  him 
all  through  his  collegiate  life.  In  February, 
1811,  when  he  was  nearly  nineteen  years  of 
age,  he  painted  a  picture  (now  in  the  office 
of  the  Alayor  of  Charlestown,  Mass.)  called 
"The  Landing  of  the  Pilgrims  at  Plymouth," 
■which,  with  a  landscape  painted  at  about  the 
same  time,  decided  his  father,  by  the  advice 
of  Stuart  and  Allston,  to  permit  him  to  visit 
Europe  with  the  latter  artist.  He  bore  to 
England  letters  to  West,  also  to  Copley,  then 
old  and  feeble.  From  both  he  received  the 
kindest  attention  and  encouragement. 

Morse  made  a  carefully-finished  drawing 
from  a  small  cast  of  the  Fai-nese  Hercules, 
as  a  test  of  his  fitness  for  a  place  as  a  stu- 
dent in  the  Royal  Academy.  With  this  he 
went  to  \\''est,  who  examined  the  drawing 
carefully,  and  handed  it  back  saying,  "  Very 
well,  sir,  very  well  ;  go  on  and  finish  it." 
"ItiV  finished,"  said  the  expectant  student. 
"  O,  no,"  said  the  president.  "  Eook  here, 
and  here,  and  here,"  pointing  out  many  unfin- 
islied  places  which  had  escaped  the  undisci- 
plined eye  of  the  young  artist.  Morse  quickly 
observed  the  defects,  spent  a  week  in  furtlier 
perfecting  his  drawing,  and  then  took  it  to 
West,  with  confidence  that  it  was  above  criti- 
cism. The  president  bestowed  more  praise 
than  before,  and  with  a  pleasant  smile  hand- 
ed it  back  to  Morse,  saying,  "  Very  well  in- 
deed, sir ;  go  on  and  finish  it." — "  Is  it  not 
finished?"  inquired  the  almost  discouraged 
student.  "See,"  said  West,  "you  have  not 
marked  that  nmscle,  nor  the  articulation  of 
the  finger-joints."  Three  days  more  were 
spent  upon  the  drr.wing,  when  it  was  taken 
back  to  the  imjjlacable  critic.  "  Very  clever 
indeed,"  said  West,  "  very  clever ;  now  go 
on  and  finish  it." — "  I  cannot  finish  it," 
Morse  replied,  when  the  old  man,  i)atting 
him  on  the  shoulder,  said,  "Well,  well,  I've 
tried  you  long  enough.  Now,  sir,  you've 
learned  more  by  this  drawing  than  you  would 
have  accomplished  in  double  the  time  by  a 


dozen  half-finished  beginnings.  It  is  not 
7i2i7nerous  drawings,  but  the  character  of 
one,  which  makes  the  thorougli  draughtsman. 
Finish  one  picture,  sir,  and  you  are  a 
l"iainter." 

Morse  heeded  the  sound  advice.  He 
studied  with  Allston  and  observed  his  pro- 
cesses ;  and  from  the  lips  of  West  he  heard 
the  most  salutary  maxims.  Encouraged  by 
both,  as  well  as  by  the  veteran  Copley,  he 
began  to  paint  a  large  picture  for  exhibition, 
in  the  Royal  Academy,  choosing  for  his  sub- 
ject "The  Dying  Hercules."  Following  the 
practice  of  Allston  (who  was  then  painting 
his  celebrated  picture  of  "  The  Dead  Man 
restored  to  Life  by  touching  the  Bones  of 
Elijah"),  he  modeled  his  figure  in  clay,  as 
the  best  of  the  old  painters  did.  It  was  his 
first  attempt  in  the  sculptor's  art  and  was 
successful.  A  ciist  was  made  in  plaster  of 
Paris  and  taken  to  West,  who  was  delighted. 
He  made  many  exclamations  of  surprise  and 
satisfaction ;  and  calling  to  him  his  son  Ra- 
phael, he  pointed  to  the  figure  and  said : 
"  Look  there,  sir,  I  have  always  told  you 
that  any  painter  can  make  a  sculptor." 

This  model  contended  for  the  prize  of  a 
gold  medal  offered  by  the  Society  of  Arts 
for  the  best  original  cast  of  a  single  figure, 
and  won  it.  In  the  large  room  of  the  Adel- 
phi,  in  the  presence  of  British  nobility,  foreign 
ambassadors  and  distinguished  strangers,  the 
duke  of  Norfolk  publicly  presented  the  med- 
al to  Morse,  on  the  13th  of  May,  1813.  At 
the  same  time  his  colossal  painting,  made 
from  this  model,  then  on  exhibition  in  the 
Royal  Academy,  was  receiving  unbounded 
praise  from  the  critics,  who  placed  "The 
Dying  Hercules"  among  the  first  twelve  pic- 
tures in  a  collection  of  almost  two  thousand. 
So  began,  upon  a  firm  foundation,  the  real 
art-life  of  this  New  England  student. 

Encouraged  by  this  success,  Morse  deter- 
mined to  contend  for  the  highest  premium 
offered  by  the  Royal  Academy  for  the  best 
historical  composition,  the  decision  to  be 
made  late  in  1815.  For  that  purpose  he  pro- 
duced his  "Judgment  of  Jupiter,"  injuly  of 
that  year.  West  assured  him  that  it  would 
take  the  prize,  but  Morse  was  unable  to  com- 
ply with  the  rules  of  the  Academy,  which  re, 
cjuircd  the  victor  to  receive  the  medal  and 
money  in  person.  His  father  had  sum- 
moned him  home,  and  filial  love  was  stronger 
than  the  persuasions  of  ambition.  West  and 
Fuseli  both  urged  the  Academy  to  make  an 
exception  in  his  case,  but  it  could  not  be 
^  done,  and  the  young  i)ainter  had  to  be  con- 
tented with  the  assurance  of  the  President 


PROFESSOR  MORSE  AND    THE    TELEGRAPH. 


19 


afterwards,  that  he  would  certainly  have  won 
the  prize  (a  gold  medal  and  $250  in  gold) 
had  he  remained. 

West  was  always  specially  kind  to  those 
who  came  from  the  land  of  his  birth.  Morse 
was  such  a  favorite  with  him,  that  while  others 
were  excluded  from  his  painting-room  at 
certain  times,  he  was  always  admitted.  W^est 
was  then  painting  his  great  picture  of  "  Christ 
Rejected."  One  day,  after  carefully  exam- 
ining Morse's  hands,  and  observing  their 
beauty  and  perfection,  he  said,  "  Let  me  tie 
you  with  this  cord  and  take  that  place  while  I 
paint  in  the  hands  of  the  Saviour."  It  was 
done,  and  when  he  released  the  young  artist, 
West  said  to  him,  "  You  may  now  say,  if  you 
please,  that  you  had  a  hand  in  this  picture." 

Fuseli,  Northcote,  Turner,  Sir  Thomas 
Lawrence,  Flaxman,  and  other  eminent 
artists  ;  and  Coleridge,  Wordsworth,  Rogers, 
Crabbe,  and  other  distinguished  literary  men, 
became  fond  of  young  Morse,  for  with  an 
uncommonly  quick  intellect  he  united  all  the 
graces  of  pleasant  manners  and  great  warmth 
and  kindliness  of  heart,  which  charmed  the 
colder  Englishmen.  And  when  in  August, 
1815,  he  packed  his  fine  picture,  "The  Judg- 
ment of  Jupiter,"  and  others,  and  sailed  for 
his  native  land,  he  bore  with  him  the  cordial 
good  wishes  of  some  of  the  best  men  in  Eng- 
land. 

When  Morse  reached  Boston,  he  found 
that  his  fame  had  gone  before  him,  and  the 
best  society  of  that  city  welcomed  him. 
Cards  of  invitation  to  dinner  and  evening 
parties  were  almost  daily  sent  to  him.  He 
was  only  in  the  twenty-fourth  year  of  his  age, 
and  was  already  famous  and  bore  the  seal  of 
highest  commendation  from  the  President  of 
the  Royal  Academy.  With  such  prestige  he 
set  up  his  easel  with  high  hopes  and  the 
fairest  promises  for  the  future  which  were 
doomed  to  speedy  decay  and  disappointment. 
The  taste  of  his  countrymen  had  not  risen  to 
the  appreciation  of  historical  pictures.  His 
fine  original  compositions,  and  his  excellent 
copies  of  those  of  others  (among  them  one 
from  Tintoretto's  marvelous  picture  of  "  The 
Miracle  of  the  Slain"),  which  hung  upon  the 
walls  of  his  studio  in  Boston,  excited  the  ad- 
miration of  cultivated  people ;  but  not  an 
order  was  given  for  a  picture,  nor  even  an  in- 
quiry ccncerning  the  prices  of  those  on  view. 

Disappointed,  but  not  disheartened,  Mr. 
Morse  left  Boston,  almost  penniless,  and  in 
Concord,  N.  H.,  commenced  the  business  of 
a  portrait  painter,  in  which  he  found  constant 
employment  at  $15  a  subject,  cabinet  size. 
There  he  became  acquainted  with  a  Southern 


gentleman,  who  assured  him  that  he  might 
find  continual  employment  in  the  South  at 
four-fold  higher  ])rlces  for  his  labor.  He  ap- 
pealed  to  his  uncle,  Dr.  Finley  of  Charleston, 
for  advice,  who  cordially  invited  him  to  come 
as  his  visitor  and  make  a  trial.  He  went, 
leaving  behind  in  Concord  a  young  maiden 
to  whom  he  was  affianced,  promising  to  re- 
turn and  marry  her  when  better  fortune 
should  reward  his  labors.  That  better  for- 
tune soon  appeared.  Orders  for  portraits 
came  in  so  thickly  (one  hundred  and  fifty,  at 
$60  each)  that  he  painted  four  a  week  during 
the  winter  and  spring.  In  the  early  sum- 
mer time  of  1818,  he  returned  to  New  Eng- 
land with  $3,000  in  his  pocket,  and  on  the 
6th  of  October  following  his  friends  read  this 
notice  in  the  N'c'w  Hampshire  Patriot, 
published  at  Concord  : — 

"Married,  in  this  town,  by  Rev.  Dr.  McFarland, 
Mr.  Samuel  F.  B.  Morse  (the  celebrated  j^ainter)  to 
Miss  Lucretia  Walker,  daughter  of  Charles  Walker, 
Esq." 

Four  successive  winters  Mr.  Morse  painted 
in  Charleston,  and  then  settled  his  little  family 
with  his  parents,  in  a  quiet  home  in  New 
Haven,  and  again  proceeded  to  try  his  fortune 
as  an  historical  painter,  by  the  production  of 
an  exhibition  picture  of  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives at  the  National  Capital.  It  was 
an  excellent  work  of  art,  but  as  a  business 
speculation  it  was  disastrous,  sinking  several 
hundred  dollars  of  the  artist's  money  and 
wasting  nearly  eighteen  months  of  precious 
time.  No  American  had  taste  enough  to 
buy  it,  and  it  was  finally  sold  to  a  gentleman 
from  England. 

Morse  now  sought  employment  in  the  rap- 
idly-growing commercial  city  of  New  York. 
Through  the  influence  of  Mr.  Isaac  Lawrence 
he  obtained  the  commission,  from  the  corpo- 
rate authorities  of  that  city,  to  paint  a  full- 
length  portrait  of  Lafayette,  then  in  this  coun- 
try. He  had  just  completed  his  study  from 
life,  in  Washington  city,  in  February,  1S25, 
when  a  black  shadow  was  suddenly  cast 
across  his  hitherto  sunny  life-path.  A  letter 
told  him  of  the  death  of  his  wife.  There  is  a 
popular  saying  that  "misfortunes  seldom  come 
single."  The  popular  belief  in  the  saying  was 
justified  in  Mr.  Morse's  case,  for  in  the  space 
of  a  little  more  than  a  year  death  deprived 
him  of  his  wife  and  his  father  and  mother. 
Thenceforward  his  children  and  art  absorbed 
his  earthly  affections,  and  he  sought  in  a  closer 
intimacy  with  artists  the  best  consolations  of 
social  life.  By  that  intimacy  he  was  soon 
called  upon  to  be  the  valiant  and  efficient 
champion  of  his  professional  brethren  in  a 


20 


LIGHTNINO  FLASHES. 


bitter  controversy  between  two  associations, 
in  this  wise  : — 

The  American  Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  then 
imder  the  presidency  of  Colonel  John  Trum- 
bull, was  in  a  languishing  state,  badly  managed 
and  of  little  use  to  artists.  Indeed,  the  artists 
complained  of  ill  usage  by  the  directors,  a 
majority  of  whom  were  not  of  the  profession  ; 
and  Thomas  S.  Cummings,  a  sj^irited  young 
student  with  Henry  Inman,  drew  up  a  re- 
monstrance and  a  petition  for  relief.  Morse 
took  a  great  interest  in  the  matter,  and  called 
a  few  of  the  artists  together  at  his  rooms  to 
discuss  it.  At  that  meeting  he  proposed  as  a 
remedy  for  the  fatal  disease  of  which  the 
old  Academy  was  dying,  the  formation  of  a 
society  of  artists  for  improvement  in  drawing. 
This  was  done  in  November,  1825,  at  a 
meeting  held  in  the  rooms  of  the  New  York 
Historical  Society,  at  which  the  now  venerable 
Asher  ]i  Durand  presided.  The  new  organ- 
ization was  named  "The  New  York  Drawing 
Association."  Mr.  Morse  was  chosen  to  be  its 
])resident.  Its  members  were  immediately 
claimed  to  be  students  of  the  Academy,  and 
Colonel  Trumbull  endeavored  to  compel 
their  allegiance.  The  artists  were  aroused, 
and  the  subsequent  action  of  the  Academy 
determined  them  to  cut  loose  from  all  con- 
nection with  it. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Drawing  Association 
in  the  following  January,  Mr.  Morse,  after  a 
short  address,  proposed  by  resolutions  the 
founding  of  an  association  of  artists,  far  wider 
in  its  scope  than  the  one  over  which  he  pre- 
sided. He  foreshadowed  in  a  icw  words  its 
character.  The  resolutions  were  adopted, 
and  on  the  i8th  of  January,  1826,  the  new 
association  was  organized  under  the  name  of 
The  National  Academy  of  Design.  Mr. 
Morse  was  chosen  to  be  its  president,  and  for 
sixteen  successive  years  he  was  annually 
elected  to  that  office.  Mr.  Durand  and  Gen- 
eral Thomas  S.  Cummings  (the  latter  for 
forty  years  the  treasurer  of  the  new  associa- 
tion) are  the  only  survivors  of  the  founders  of 
that  now  flourishing  institution. 

The  friends  of  the  old  Academy  were  very 
wrathful,  and  assailed  the  new  association 
with  unstinted  bitterness,  in  which  personal- 
ities were  indulged.  A  war  of  words  in  the 
public  press  was  carried  on  for  a  long  time, 
v.-hich  Mr.  Morse,  as  the  champion  of  the 
new  society,  waged  with  the  vigorous  and  effi- 
cient weapons  of  candor,  courtesy,  and  digni- 
fied, keen  and  lucid  statements  and  arguments, 
■which  finally  achieved  a  complete  victory.  * 


A  record  of  this  controversy,  with  the  newspaper 


Mr.  Morse  inaugurated  a  new  era  in  the 
history  of  the  fine  arts  in  this  country,  by 
calling  public  attention  to  their  usefulness 
and  necessity,  in  a  series  of  lectures  on  the 
subject  before  the  New  York  Athenajum,  to 
crowded  audiences.  These  were  repeated 
before  the  students  and  academicians  of  the 
National  Academy  of  Design. 

In  1829  Mr.  Morse  made  a  second  pro- 
fessional visit  to  Europe.  He  was  warmly 
welcomed  and  duly  honored  by  the  Royal 
Academy  in  London.  West  had  been  dead 
nine  years,  and  Fuseli  was  no  more  ;  but  he 
found  an  admirer  in  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence, 
AVest's  successor,  and  many  friends  among  the 
younger  academicians.  During  more  than 
three  years  he  made  his  abode  in  various 
continental  cities.  In  Paris  he  studied  in 
the  Louvre,  and  there  he  made  an  exhibition 
picture  of  the  famous  gallery,  with  beautiful 
miniature  copies  of  about  fifty  of  the  finest 
works  in  that  collection.  It  failed  as  a  spec- 
ulation, and  finally  went  to  Hyde  Hall,  the 
seat  of  Mr.  George  Clarke,  on  Otsego  Lake. 

In  November,  1832,  Mr.  Morse  landed  in 
New  York,  enriched  by  his  transatlantic  ex- 
perience and  full  of  the  promise  of  attaining 
to  the  highest  excellence  in  his  profession. 
Allston,  writing  to  Dunlap  in  1834,  said:  "I 
rejoice  to  hear  your  report  of  Morse's  ad- 
vance in  his  art.  I  know  7vhai  is  in  him, 
perhaps,  better  than  any  one  else.  If  he  will 
only  bring  out  all  that  is  there,  he  will  show 
powers  that  many  now  do  not  dream  of." 

A  higher  revelation  than  art  had  even  given 
it  was  now  vouchsafed  to  the  mind  of  Morse 
through  Science,  its  sister  and  coadjutor.  For 
several  years  his  thoughts  had  been  busy 
with  that  subtle  principle,  by  whatever  name 
it  may  be  called,  which  seems  to  pervade  the 
universe,  and  "  spreads  undivided,  operates 
unspent."  The  lectures  on  electro-magnetism 
by  his  intimate  friend,  J.  P'reeman  Dana,  at 
the  Athenoeum,  while  he  (Morse)  was  giving 
his  course  there  on  the  Fine  Arts,  had  great- 
ly interested  him  in  the  subject,  and  he 
learned  much  in  familiar  conversations  with 
Mr.  Dana.  Even  at  that  early  day,  Dana's 
spiral  volute  coil  suggested  to  Morse  the 
electro-magnet  used  in  his  recording  instru- 
ments. 

While  on  his  second  visit  to  Europe,  Mr. 
Morse  made  himself  acquainted  with  the 
labors  of  scientific  men  in  endeavors  to  corn- 


articles  of  the  combatants,  may  be  found  in  that  rare 
and  valuable  work,  Historic  Annals  of  the  Na- 
tional Academy  of  Design,  by  Professor  Thomas  S. 
Cummings,  N.  A. 


PROFESSOR  MORSE  AND    THE    TELEGRAPH. 


21 


municate  intelligence  between  far  dis- 
tant places  out  of  the  line  of  vision  by 
means  of  electro-magnetism,  and  he 
saw  an  electromagnetic  semaphore  in 
operation.  He  was  aware  tliat  so  early 
as  1649,  Strada,  a  Jesuit  priest,  had  in 
fable  prophesied  of  an  electric  tele- 
graph ;  and  that  for  half  a  century  or 
more,  philosophers  had  been,  from  time 
to  time,  partially  succeeding  in  the  dis- 
covery of  the  anxiously-looked  for  re- 
sult. But  no  telegraph  proper — no 
instrument  for  writing  at  a  distance 
— had  yet  been  invented.* 

In  the  ship  Sully,  in  -which  Mr. 
Morse  voyaged  from  Havre  to  New 
York  in  the  autumn  of  1832,  the  recent 
discovery  in  France  of  the  means  for 
obtaining  the  electric  spark  from  a 
magnet  Avas  a  fruitful  topic  of  conver- 
sation among  the  cultivated  passengers  ; 
and  it  was  during  that  voyage  that  a 
revelation  was  made  to  the  mind  of 
IMorse,  which  enabled  him  to  conceive 
the  idea  of  an  electro-magnetic  and 
chemical  recording  telegraph,  substan- 
tially and  essentially  as  it  now  exists. 
Before  the  Sully  had  reached  New 
York,  he  had  elaborated  his  concep- 
tions in  the  form  of  drawings  and  speci- 
fications, which  he  exhibited  to  his 
fellow-passengers.  This  fact,  proven  by  the 
testimony  of  those  passengers  given  in  a 
court  of  justice,  fixes  the  date  of  the  inven- 
tion of  Morse's  electro-magnetic  recording 
telegraph  at  the  autumn  of  1S32. 

Circumstances  delayed  the  construction 
of  a  complete  recording  telegraph  by  Mr. 
Morse,  and  the  subject  slumbered  in  his  mind. 
During  his  absence  abroad  he  had  been 
elected  to  the  professorship  of  the  Literature 
of  the  Arts  of  Design  in  the  University  of  the 
City  of  New  York,  and  this  field  of  duty  oc- 

*  In  1774,  Le  Sage  constructed  an  electric  sema- 
phore with  twenty-four  wiies  corresponding  to  the  24 
letters  of  the  alphabet.  In  1793,  Claude  Chappe 
established  an  aerial  line  of  electric  semaphores. 
From  17S0  to  iSoo,  German,  Italian,  and  Spanish 
philosophers  made  interesting  experiments  in  this  di- 
rection. In  iSiO  Schweiger  discovered  tlie  multiplying 
power  of  the  magnet  by  an  electric  coil,  and  in  1S19 
Oersted  perfected  the  discovery  of  electro-magnetism. 
Ronalds  constructed  an  electric  semaphore,  which 
made  signals  at  a  distance  of  eight  miles,  in  1S16.  In 
1S25  Sturgeon  invented  the  electro-magnet.  In  1S30 
Professor  Henry  applied  Schweiger's  coil  to  Sturgeon's 
magnet,  and  wonderfully  increased  the  magnetic  force 
which  Morse  subsequently  used.  Arago,  Faraday, 
Ampere,  Gauss  and  Weber,  and  Steinheil  had  made 
many  valuable  advances  towards  the  great  discovery, 
and  Wheatstone  very  nearly  reached  it. 


morse's   first    nECOKDING  TELEGRAnl. 

cupied  his  attention  for  some  time.  Finally, 
in  November,  1S35,  he  completed  a  rude  tel- 
egraphic instriuiKfnt — the  first  recording  ai>- 
paratus — which  is  now  in  the  library  of  his 
country-seat  near  Poughkeepsie.  It  embodied 
the  mechanical  principles  of  those  now  in  use 
in  every  quarter  of  the  globe.  But  his  whole 
plan  was  not  completed  until  July,  1S37, 
when,  by  means  of  two  instruments,  he  was 
able  to  communicate  from  as  well  as  to  a  dis- 
tant point.  In  Sei)teniber,  hundreds  of  peo- 
ple saAV  it  in  operation  at  the  University,  the 
larger  portion  of  whom  looked  upon  it  as  a 
scientific  toy  constructed  by  an  unfortunate 
dreamer. 

In  the  following  year  Mr.  Morse's  invention 
was  sufficiently  perfected  to  induce  him  to 
call  the  attention  of  the  National  Congress 
to  it,  and  ask  their  ai:l  in  the  construction  of 
an  experimental  line  between  the  cities  of 
Washington  and  Baltimore.  Late  in  the  long 
session  of  183S,  he  appeared  before  that 
body  with  his  instrument.  Before  leaving 
New  York  with  it  he  invited  a  few  friends  to 
see  it  work.  The  written  invitation  ran  thus, 
— I  copy  one  now  before  me  : 

"  Professor  Morse  requests  the  honor  of  Thomas  S. 
Cummings,  Esq.,  and  family's  company  ia  the  Geolo- 


oo 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


gical  Cabinet  of  the  University,  Wasliington  Square,  to 
witness  the  operation  of  tlie  electro- niagnetic  tel- 
egrapli,  at  a  private  exhibition  of  it  to  a  few  friends, 
previous  to  its  leaving  the  city  for  Wasliington. 

"The  apparatus  will  be  prcpareel  at  precisely  12 
o'clock,   on   Wednesday,  24tli  instant.       The  time  be- 
liniitetl,  punctuality  is  specially  requested. 
"Mew  Vokk  University,  June  22,  183S." 

One  of  the  first  messages  on  that  wire  was 
given  to  Mr.  Cummings  (yet  in  his  possession) 
in  tliese  words  :  "  Attention  the  Universe — By 
Kingdoms,  riglit  wheel — Facetiously."  It  may 
be  explained  by  the  fact  that  Mr.  Cummings 
had  just  received  military  promotion  to  the 
command  of  a  division.  It  is  probably  the 
first  message  by  the  recording  telegraph  now 
extant,  and  how  prophetic ! 

Professor  Morse  found  very  little  encourage- 
ment at  Washington,  and  he  went  to  Eluropc 
with  the  hope  of  drawing  the  attention  of  for- 
eign governments  to  the  advantages,  and  se- 
curing patents  for  the  invention,  having  al- 
ready filed  a  caveat  at  the  patent  office  of  his 
own  country.  His  mission  was  a  failure. 
England  refused  to  grand  him  a  patent,  and 
France  gave  him  only  a  useless  brevet  d'in- 
rention,  which  did  not  secure  for  him  any 
special  privilege.  ,  So  he  returned  home,  dis-- 
appointed  but  not  discouraged,  and  waited 


FAC-SIMILE  OF  THE  FIRST  PAGUERREOTYrE  OP  THE  FACE  MADE  IN  AilERICA, 


patiently  four  years  longer,  before  he  again 
attempted  to  interest  Congress  in  his  inven- 
tion. 

The  year  before  he  went  to  Europe,  Pro- 
fessor Alorse  suffered  a  severe  disappoint- 
ment in  the  way  of  his  profession.  He  was 
an  unsuccessful  applicant  for  a  commission 
to  paint  one  of  the  pictures  for  the  eight 
panels  in  the  Rotunda  of  the  national  Capitol, 
which  a  law  of  Congress  had  authorized. 

Morse  was  greatly  disappointed.  His  ar- 
tist friends  showed  their  sympathy  in  the 
practical  way  of  giving  him  an  order  to  paint 
a  historical  picture,  raising  funds  for  the  pay- 
ment for  it  in  shares  of  $50  each.  The  first 
intimation  the  Professor  had  of  their  generous 
design,  was  Avhen  two  of  his  professional 
brethren  called  upon  him  and  gave  the  order, 
and  at  the  same  time  informed  him  that 
$3,000  had  already  been  subscribed.  "  Never 
have  I  read  or  known  of  such  an  act  of  pio- 
fessional  generosity,"  exclaimed  Morse.  He 
agreed  to  paint  for  them  the  picture  he  had 
projected  for  the  Government — "  The  Signing 
of  the  First  Compact  on  board  the  Mayfiow- 
er " — and  addressed  himself  to  the  task. 
But  the  telegraph  soon  absorbed  his  atten- 
tion, and  so  won  him  from  painting  that  he 
almost  abandoned  its  practice.  In 
1 84 1  he  returned  to  the  subscribers 
the  amount  in  full,  with  interest,  whieh 
had  been  paid  to  him,  and  so  can- 
celed the  obligation.  "Thus,"  wrote 
General  Cummings,  "while  the  world 
won  a  belt  of  instantaneous  com- 
munication, the  subscribers  lost  the 
pleasure  of  his  triumph  as  an  artist. 
The  artist  was  absorbed  in  the  elec- 
trician." 

"While  Professor  Morse  was  in  Paris, 
in  the  spring  of  1S39,  he  formed  an 
acquaintance  with  M.  Daguerre,  who, 
in  connection  with  I^I.  Niepce,  had 
discovered  the  method  of  fixing  the 
image  of  the  camera  obscura,  which 
was  then  creating  a  great  sensation 
among  scientific  men.  These  gentle- 
men were  then  considering  a  propo- 
sition from  the  French  government 
to  make  their  discovery  public,  on 
condition  of  their  receiving  a  suitable 
pension.  Professor  Morse  was  anx- 
ious to  sec  the  ])hotographic  restilts 
before  leaving  for  home,  and  the 
American  Consul  ( Robert  _  "Walsh) 
made  arrangements  for  an  interview 
between  the  two  discoverers.  The 
inventions  of  each  -were  shown  to 
the  other  ;  and  Daguerre  promised  to 


PROFESSOR  MORSE  AXD    THE   TELEGRAPH. 


yr 


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send  to  IMorse  a  copy  of  the  descriptive  pub- 
lication which  he  intended  to  make  so  soon 
as  the  pension  should  be  secured.  Da- 
guerre  kept  his  promise,  and  Morse  was 
probably  the  first  recipient  of  the  pamphlet 
in  this  country.  From  the  drawings  it  con- 
tained he  constructed  the  first  daguerreotype 
apparatus  made  in  the  United  States. 

From  a  back  window  in  the  New  York 
University  Professor  Morse  obtained  a  good 
representation  of  the  tower  of  the  Church  of 
the  Messiah,  on  Broadway,  and  surrounding 
buildings,  which  possesses  a  historical  interest 
as  being  the  first  photograph  ever  taken  in 
America.  It  was  on  a  ])late  the  size  of  a 
playing  card.  He  experimented  with  Pro- 
fessor J.  W.  Draper  in  a  studio  built  upon 
the  roof  of  the  University,  and  succeeded  in 
taking  likenesses  from  the  living  hijman  face. 
His  subjects  were  compelled  to  sit  fifteen  min- 
utes in  the  bright  sunlight,  with  the  eyes 
closed,  of  course.  Professor  Draper  short- 
ened the  process  and  was  the  first  to  take  por- 
traits with  the  eyes  open.  Some  of  the  origi- 
nal plates  so  photographed  upon  by  Professor 


IMorse  were  presented  by  him  to  Vassar  Col- 
lege, of  which  he  was  a  trustee. 

On  the  preceding  page  will  be  seen  an 
engraving  of  part  of  one  of  these  plates 
(which  originally  contained  three  figures),  in 
which  the  costumes  almost  mark  the  era  of 
its  production. 

Again  Professor  Morse  appeared  before 
Congress  widi  his  telegraph.  It  was  at  the 
session  of  1842-3.  On  the  21st  of  February, 
1S43,  the  late  John  P.  Kennedy  of  Maryland 
moved  that  a  bill  in  committee,  appropriat- 
ing $30,000  to  be  expended,  under  the  di- 
rection of  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  in  a 
series  of  experiments  for  testing  the  merits  of 
the  telegraph,  should  be  considered.  It 
met  with  ridicule  from  the  outset.  Cave 
Johnson  of  Tennessee  moved  as  an  amend- 
ment, that  one-half  the  sum  should  be  given 
to  a  lecturer  on  Mesmerism,  then  in  Washing- 
ton, for  trying  mesmeric  experiments  under 
the  direction  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury. 
Mr.  Houston  thought  Millerism  ought  to  be 
included  in  the  benefits  of  the  appropriation. 
After  the  indulgence  of   much    cheap    ^\it. 


24 


LIGHTXIXG  FLASHES. 


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Mr.  S.  Mason  of  Ohio  protested  against  such 
frivolity  as  injurious  to  the  character  of  the 
House,  and  asked  the  chair  to  rule  the 
amendment  out  of  order.  The  chair  (John 
White  of  Kentucky)  ruled  the  amendment  in 
order,  because,  as  he  said,  "  it  would  require 
a  scientific  analysis  to  determine  how  far  the 
magnetism  of  Mesmerism  was  analogous  to 
that  to  be  employed  in  telegraphs."  His  wit 
was  applauded  by  peals  of  laughter,  when  the 
amendment  was  voted  down  and  the  bill  laid 
aside  to  be  reported.  It  passed  the  House 
on  the  23d  of  February,  by  the  close  vote  of 
89  to  83,  and  then  went  to  the  Senate.  The 
efficient  friends  of  Professor  Morse  in  pro- 
curing this  result  were  J.  P.  Kennedy  of 
Maryland,  S.  Mason  of  Ohio,  David  Wallace 
of  Indiana,  C.  G.  Ferris  of  New  York,  and 
Colonel  J.  B.  Aycrigg  of  New  Jersey. 

The  bill  met  with  neither  sneers  nor  op- 
position in  the  Senate,  but  the  business  of 
that  House  went  on  with  discouraging  slow- 
ness. At  twilight  on  the  last  evening  of  the 
session  (March  3,  1843)  there  were  119  bills 
before  it.  As  it  seemed  impossible  for  it  to 
be  reached  in  regular  course  before  the  hour 
of  adjournment  should  arrive,  the  Professor, 
who  had  anxiously  watched  the  tardy  move- 
ments of  business  all  day  from  the  gallery 
of  the  Senate  chamber,  went  with  a  sad  heart 
to  his  hotel  and  prepared  to  leave  for  New 
York  at  an  early  hour  the  next  morning. 
"While  at  breakfast,  a  servant  informed  him 
that  a  young  lady  desired  to  see  him  in  the 
parlor. 

There  he  met  Miss  Annie  Ellsworth,  then 
a  young  school  girl  —  the  daughter  of  his 
intimate  friend,  Hon,  Henry  L.  Ellsworth, 
the  first  Commissioner  of  Patents  —  who 
said,  as  she  extended  her  hand  to  him  :  "  I 
have  come  to  congratulate  you." 

*'  Upon  what?"  in(iuired  the  Professor. 

"  Upon  the  passage  of  your  bill,"  she  re- 
plied. 

"  Impossible  !  Its  fate  was  sealed  at  dusk 
last  evening.     You  must  be  mistaken." 

"  Not  at  all,"  she  responded.  "  Father 
sent  me  to  tell  you  that  your  bill  was  passed. 
He  remained  until  the  session  closed,  and 
yours  was  the  last  bill  but  one  acted  upon, 
and  it  was  passed  just  five  minutes  before 


the  adjournment ;  and  I  am  so  glad  to  be 
the  first  one  to  tell  you.  Mother  says,  too, 
that  you  must  come  home  with  me  to  break- 
fast." 

The  invitation  was  readily  accepted,  and 
the  joy  in  the  household  was  unbounded. 
Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ellsworth  had  fully 
believed  in  the  project,  and  the  former,  in 
his  confidence  in  it  and  in  his  warm  friend- 
ship for  Prof.  Morse,  had  spent  all  the  clos- 
ing hours  of  the  session  in  the  Senate  cham- 
ber, doing  what  he  could  to  help  the  bill 
along,  and  giving  it  all  the  influence  of  his 
high  personal  and  official  position. 

Grasping  the  hand  of  his  young  friend,  the 
Professor  thanked  her  again  and  again  for 
bearing  him  such  pleasant  tidings,  and  as- 
sured her  that  she  should  send  over  the 
wires  the  first  message,  as  her  reward.  The 
matter  was  talked  over  in  the  family,  and 
Mrs.  Ellsworth  suggested  a  message  which 
Prof.  Morse  referred  to  the  daughter,  for  her 
approval ;  and  this  was  the  one  which  was 
subsequently  sent. 

A  little  more  than  a  year  after  that  time, 
the  line  between  W'ashington  and  Baltimore 
was  completed.  Prof  Alorse  was  in  the 
former  city,  and  Mr.  Alfred  Vail,  his  assistant, 
in  the  latter ;  the  first  in  the  chamber  of  the 
Supreme  Court,  the  last  in  the  Mount  Clare 
depot,  when  the  circuit  being  perfect,  Prof. 
Morse  sent  to  Miss  Ellsworth  for  her  mes- 
sage, and  it  came. 

"What  hath  God  wrought!" 

It  was  sent  in  triplicate  in  the  dot-and-line 
language  of  the  instrument  to  Baltimore,  and 
was  the  first  message  ever  transmitted  by  a 
reeording  telegraph.  A  fac-simile  of  that  first 
message,  with  Professor  Morse's  indorsement, 
is  here  given. 

The  story  of  this  first  message  has  been 
often  told  with  many  exaggerations.  It  has 
roamed  about  Europe  with  various  romantic 
material  attached  to  it,  originating  mainly  in 
tlie  Frencjh  imagination,  and  has  started  up 
anew  from  time  to  time  in  our  own  country 
under  fresh  forms,  but  the  above  story  iS 
simply  and  literally  true.  An  inventor  in 
despair  receives  the  news  of  his  imexpected 
success  from  his  friend's  daughter,  and  he 
makes  her  a  promise  which  he  keeps,  and 


1.  Entkee. 


2.  i'l.ArKD— "  That  familiar  sound.' 


A  Deep,  Dire,  Dreadful  Tragedy, 


. —  -rT-TTillll 


3.  Ha!  Ha!  I  hope  ue'll  kusu  meI" 


4.  Rosued! 


In  Four  Acts. 


PROFESSOR   AfORSE  AXD    THE    TELEGRAPH. 


25 


/ 


thus  links  her  name  with  his  o\\ti,  and  with 
an  invention  which  becomes  one  of  the  con- 
troUing  instruments  of  civiUzation  for  ail 
time. 

The  first  public  messages  sent  were  a  no- 
tice to  Silas  Wright,  in  Washington,  of  his 
nomination  for  the  office  of  Vice-President 
of  the  United  States  by  the  Democratic  Con- 
vention, then  (May,  1S44)  in  session  in  Bal- 
timore, and  his  response  declining  it.  Hon. 
Hendrick  B.  Wright,  in  a  letter  to  the  author 
of  this  sketch,  says  :  "  As  the  presiding  officer 
of  the  body,  I  read  the  despatch ;  but  so  in- 
credulous were  the  members  as  to  the  au- 
thority of  the  evidence  before  them,  that  the 
Convention  adjourned  over  to  the  following 
day,  to  await  the  report  of  a  committee  sent 
over  to  \\^ashington  to  get  reliable  informa- 
tion upon  the  subject." 

Such  were  the  circumstances  attending 
the  birth  of  the  Electro-Magnetic  Recording 
Telegraph.  The  mgenuity  of  man  had  fashion- 
ed a  body  for  it ;  but  there  it  lay,  with  all  its 
perfections  undreamed  of,  excepting  by  a 
few  prophetic  philosophers, — its  mighty  pow- 
ers all  unknown, — almost  as  lifeless  and  use- 
less as  a  rock  in  the  wilderness,  until  Morse, 
divinely  inspired,  as  he  always  believed,  en- 
dowed it  with  intelligence.  The  poet  said 
concerning  the  discoveries  of  Newton,  which 
dispelled  so  much  of  the  darkness  which  hung 
around  the  truths  of  science, 

"God  said,  Let  Newton  live,  and  all  was  Light." 

With  equal  truth  may  Morse  be  ranked 
among  the  creative  agencies  of  God  upon 
the  earth. 

The  infant  of  his  conception,  so  ridiculed 
and  distrusted,  immediately  gave  signs  of 
its  divinity.  The  doubters  were  soon  readv 
to  bring  garlanded  bulls  to  sacrifice  to  it  as  a 
god ;  and  a  prophet  wrote  : 

"What  more,  presumptuous  mortals,  will  you  dare? 

See  Franklin  seize  the  Clouds,  their  bolts  to  bury; 
The  Sun  assigns  his  pencil  to  Daguerre, 

And  Morse  the  lightning  makes  his  secretary  !" 

He  Stood  before  the  world  as  the  peer  of 
Kings  and  Emperors,  for  the  application  of 
his  thought  to  exquisite  mechanism  revolu- 
tionized the  world.  And  kings  and  emperors 
soon  delighted  to  pay  homage  to  his  genius 
by  substantial  tokens. 


-i _..-3 


o 


The  Sultan  of  Turkey  was  the  first  mon- 
arch who  recognized  Professor  Morse  as  a 
public  benefactor,   by  bestowing  upon  Jiim 
the  decoration  of  the  Nishan  Jftichar,  or  Or- 
der cf  Glory.     That  was  in  1848,  the  same 
year  when  his  Alma  Mater  conferred  upon 
him  the  honorary  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws. 
The  Kings  of  Prussia  and  WUrtemberg  and 
the    Emperor  of  Austria  each  gave  him  a 
Gold  Medal  of  Scientific  Merit,  that  of  the 
first  named  being  set  in  a  massive  gold  snuff- 
box.    In   1856,  the  Emperor  of  the  French 
bestowed  upon  him  the  Cross  of  a  Chevalier 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor.     The  next  year  the 
Cross  of  K?ti_i:;hi  Commander  of  the   First 
Class  in  the  Order  of  the  Dannebroge  was 
presented  to  him  by  the  King  of  Denmark, 
and  in   1858  the  Queen  of  Spain  gave   him 
the  Cross  of  the  Knight  Commander  (de  nu- 
mero)  of  the  Order  of  Isabella  the  Catholic. 
The  King  of  Italy  gave  him  the  Cross  of  the 
Order  of  SS.  Maurice    and  Lazarus,    and 
the  Sovereign  of  Portugal  presented  him  with 
the   Cross  of  the  Order  of  the  Tower  and 
Sword. 

In  1858,  a  special  congress  was  called  by 
the  Emperor  of  the  French  to  devise  a  suit- 
able testimonial  of  the  nation  to  Professor 
Morse.  Representatives  from  ten  sovereign- 
ties convened  at  Paris  under  the  i)residency 
of  Count  Walewski,  then  the  French  Minister 
for  Foreign  Affairs,  and  by  a  unanimous 
vote  they  gave,  in  the  aggregate,  four  him- 
dred  thousand  francs  ($80,000)  as  "an  hon- 
orary gratuity  to  Professor  Morse,"  a  "col- 
iective  act,  to  demonstrate  the  sentiments  of 
public  gratitude  justly  excited  by  his  inven- 
tion." The  States  which  participated  in  this 
testimonial  were  P'rance,  Austria,  Russia, 
Belgium,  Holland,  Sweden,  Piedmont,  the 
Holy  See,  Tuscany  and  Turkey. 

Like  all  useful  inventions,  Morse's  re- 
cording telegraph  found  competitors  for  hon- 
ors and  emoluments.  Its  own  progress  in 
securing  public  confidence  was  at  first  slow. 
In  1846  House's  letter-printing  telegraph  was 
brought  out,  and  in  1849  Bain  introduced 
electro-chemical  telegraphy.  Rival  lines 
were  established.  Costly  litigations  ensued, 
which  promised,  at  one  time,  to  demand 
more  money  than  the  income  from  tlie  inven- 


26 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


£3  C^ 


4y 


-r- 


o      o 


e      o 


o 


-IJ^ 


tion.  Finally,  in  1S51,  the  rival  lines  were 
consolidated,  when  different  companies  were 
formed  to  operate  under  the  same  patent. 
Since  then  other  consolidations  have  taken 
place,  and  the  Western  Union  Telegraph 
Company  now  controls  a  greater  portion  of 
the  business  in  this  country.  According  to  a 
statement  made  by  its  able  electrician, 
George  B.  Prescott,  in  January,  1S71,  that 
company  was  then  operating  56,000  miles  of 
line,  125,000  miles  of  wire,  4,600  offices,  and 
was  transmitting  over  10,000,000  messages 
annually.  The  remaining  companies  were 
then  operating  about  10,000  miles  of  line.  At 
about  the  same  time  there  were  in  round 
numbers  175,000  miles  of  line  and  475,000 
miles  of  wire  in  operation  in  Great  Britain, 
Ireland,  and  on  the  European  continent. 
At  the  same  time  also  there  were  over  thirty- 
six  thousand  miles  of  submarine  lines  laid 
imder  the  waters  of  the  Atlantic  and  German 
Oceans;  the  Baltic,  North  Mediterranean, 
Arabian,  China,  Japan  and  Red  Seas  ;  the 
Persian  Gulf ;  the  Bay  of  Biscay  ;  the  Straits 
of  Gibraltar  and  Malacca,  and  the  Gulfs  of 
Mexico  and  the  St.  Lawrence,  by  which  the 
civilized  world  is  put  into  close  mental  com- 
munication. 

Of  marine  telegraphy.  Professor  Morse 
was  the  originator.  So  early  as  1842,  he  laid 
the  first  marine  cable  across  the  harbor  of 
New  York,  which  achievement  won  for  him 
the  gold  medal  of  the  American  Institute ; 
and  in  a  letter  to  John  C.  Spencer,  then  Sec- 
retary of  the  Treasury,  in  August,  1843,  con- 
cerning electro-magnetism  and  its  powers,  h§ 


MOKSS  5  RESIDENCE   AT  LOCUST  GKOVE. 


wrote  :  "  The  practical  inference  from  this 
law  is,  that  a  telegraphic  communication  on 
the  electro-magnetic  plan  may  with  certainty 
be  established  acrosj  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 
Startling  as  this  may  now  seem,  I  am  confi- 
dent the  time  will  come  when  this  project 
will  be  realized."  That  prophecy  was  ful- 
filled in  1858,  when  Professor  Morse  had  yet 
fourteen  years  of  life  before  him,  and  the 
most  wonderful  achievements  of  his  marvel- 
ous invention  were  yet  unrevealed.  Among 
these  was  the  long-worked-for  result,  accom- 
plished only  a  itw  weeks  before  his  death, 
namely,  the  iransmission  of  messages  both 
7vays  over  the  same  wire  at  the  savie  instant. 
This  is  tlie  last  great  triumph  of  electro-mag- 
netic telegraphy. 

Very  soon  the  almost  sentient  electro-mag- 
netic nerve  will  convey  instant  intelligence 
through  every  ocean  to  every  continent  of 
the  globe.  May  we  not  liken  that  nerve, 
throbbing  with  its  mysterious  essence,  to  the 
voice  of  the  angel  in  the  Apocalypse,  who 
stood  with  one  foot  upon  the  land  and  the 
other  upon  the  sea  and  proclaimed  that  time 
should  be  no  longer  ? 

Professor  Morse  enjoyed  the  fiiU  fruition  of 
his  great  discovery,  and  received  during  his 
life  the  honors  and  emoluments  which  were 
justly  his  due.  In  addition  to  the  attentions 
paid  to  him  by  governments,  he  was  made 
the  recipient  of  ])ublic  honorary  bancjuets  in 
London,  Paris,  and  New  York.  At  the  latter, 
given  at  the  close  of  1868,  the  Chief  Justice  of 
the  United  States  presided,  and  many  of  the 
dignitaries  of  the  republic  and  the  Brit- 
ish minister  at  Washington  Avere  in  attend- 
ance. 

In  187 1  a  statue  of  Professor  Morse  was 
erected  in  Central  Park,  New  York,  at  the 
expense  of  the  telegraph  oj^erators  of  the 
country.  It  was  unveiled  on  the  loth  of  June 
with  the  most  imposing  ceremonies,  in  which 
leading  men  of  the  nation  participated. 
There  were  delegates  from  every  State  in  the 
Union,  and  from  tlie  British  i)rovinces.  In 
the  evening  a  public  reception  was  given  to 
the  venerable  inventor  at  the  Academy  of 
Music,  at  which  Hon.  William  Orton,  Presi- 
dent of  the  Western  Union  Telegraph  Com- 
pany,   presided,    assisted   by  scores    of    the 


PROFESSOR  MORSE  AND    THE   TELEGRAPH. 


27 


^ 


leading  public  men  of  the  nation  as  vice- 
presidents.  Impressive  speeches  were  ut- 
tered. The  last  scene  was  most  impressive 
of  all.  It  was  announced  that  the  telegraphic 
instrument  before  the  audience  was  then  in 
connection  Avith  every  other  one  of  the 
10,000  instruments  in  America,  when  Miss 
Cornell,  a  young  telegraphic  operator,  touched 
its  key  and  sent  this  message  to  all : 
"  Greeting  and  Thanks  to  the  Tele- 
graph Fraternity  throughout  the 
World.  Glory  to  God  in  the  Highest,  on 
Earth  Peace,  Good-wili.  to  Men."  Then 
the  venerable  inventor  was  conducted  to  the 
instrument,  touched  the  key,  and  the  sounder 
struck  "  S.  F.  B.  Morse."  A  storm  of  enthu- 
siasm swept  through  the  house  for  some  mo- 
ments, as  the  audience  arose,  the  ladies 
waving  their  handkerchiefs,  and  old  men  and 
young  men  alike  cheering  as  with  one  voice. 
Professor  Morse  appeared  in  public  for  the 
last  time  on  the  22d  of  February,  1872,  when 
he  unveiled  the  statue  of  Franklin  erected  in 
Printing  House  Square,  in  New  York.  After 
that  his  health  rapidly  declined,  and  on  Tues- 
day, the  2d  of  April,  1872,  his  spirit  passed 
out  peacefully  from  its  earthly  tabernacle  to 
the  bosom  of  God.  On  the  5  th  his  remains 
were  carried  in  a  casket  to  the  Madison 
Square  Presbyterian  Church,  when  the  glo- 
rious Anthem,  "  I  heard  a  voice  from  Heav- 
en," was  sung,  a  funeral  discourse  was  pro- 
nounced by  Rev.  William  Adams,  D.D.,  and 
a  concluding  prayer  by  Rev.  B.  F.  Wheeler, 
pastor  of  the  church  at  Poughkeepsie,  of 
Avhich  the  deceased  was  a  member.  Then 
the  remains  were  taken  to  Greenwood  Ceme- 
tery. Just  before  his  death,  Professor  Morse's 
physicians,  uncertain  as  to  the  exact  nature 
of  his  disease,  raised  him  up  and  sounded 
his  chest  with  finger  tappings.  The  Profess- 
or roused  from  the  stupor  in   which  he  had 


t:  f 


been  lying,  when  one  of  the  physicians  said, 
"  This  is  the  way  we  telegraph."  The  dying 
man  comprehended  the  point,  and  replied, 
"Very  good — very  good."  These  were  his 
last  words. 

Professor  Morse  was  twice  married.  His 
first  wife,  as  we  have  seen,  died  in  1825.  His 
second  wife  (still  living)  was  Sarah  Elizabeth 
Griswold,  a  grand-daughter  of  the  late  Arthur 
Breese,  of  Utica,  and  Catharine  Livingston,  of 
Poughkeepsie,  to  whom  he  was  married  in 
the  summer  of  1848. 

The  Professor's  private  life  was  one  of  al- 
most unalloyed  happiness.  After  his  last 
marriage,  his  summer  home  was  on  the  banks 
of  the  Hudson  just  below  Poughkeepsie,  call- 
ed "  Locust  Grove,"  and  his  winter  residence 
was  in  New  York  City.  His  presence  was 
always  sunshine  to  his  family,  and  his  influ- 
ence in  society  was  benign.  He  was,  in  the 
highest  sense  of  the  term,  a  Christian  gentle- 
man, a  faithful  disciple  of  the  Redeemer,  and 
a  fine  exemplar  of  dutiful  obedience  to  every 
law  in  all  the  relations  of  life,  domestic  and 
social. 

The  invention  of  Professor  Morse  is  a  gift 
to  mankind  of  immeasurable  value.  It  has 
already  widened  the  range  of  human  thought 
and  action,  and  given  to  literature  a  truer 
catholicity  and  humanity,  whilst  more  than 
any  other  agency  it  is  binding  the  nations  of 
the  earth  in  a  brotherhood  which  seems  like 
the  herald  of  the  millennial  era.  Its  silent 
forces  are  working  with  awful  majesty  in  the 
realm  of  mind,  reducing  the  ideals  of  the  old 
mythologies  to  practical  and  beneficent  re- 
sults. 

Has  inspiration  ceased  ?  Have  revelations 
come  to  an  end  ?  AVas  that  first  message 
a  chance  communication,  or  a  direct  inspi- 
ration of  the  Almighty  ?  "  ^VHAT  hath  God 
wrought ! " 


28 


LIGUryiXG   FLASHES. 


D,  C,  Shaiv  {Oiiey  Gagin), 


Mr.  Shaw  was  born  in  Bath,  Mc,  and  first  com- 
menced his  telegraphic  career  in  Brunswick,  in  that 
State,  'neath  the  classic  shades  of  old  Bowdoiu,  in 
whose  halls  lie  had  studied  and  "  burned  the  mid- 
night oil."  But  the  new  and  wonderful  art  of  tel- 
egraphy fascinated  him,  and  thus  the  fraternity 
added  one  more  cultured  mind  to  their  list.  His 
ability  soon  secured  his  promotion  to  that  "  training 
school"  of  the  Eastern  division,  South  Berwick 
Junction,  Me.,  an  isolated  spot,  but  an  important 
junction  of  two  great  roads,  and  principal  testing 
station  between  Boston  and  Portland.  Among  the 
graduates  of  this  office  may  be  mentioned  :  Labonte, 
McKay,  "  Heme"  Grant,  Goodwin  (afterward  Supt. 
of  tiie  A.  &  P.  at  Buffalo),  and  Henderson,  chief  op- 
erator in  the  Boston  oflice.  Portland  soon  claimed 
Mr.  Shaw's  services,  and  here  he  worked  long  and 
faithfully,  finally  taking  the  position  of  chief  oper- 
ator, which  he  still  liokls.  In  the  spring  and  sum- 
mer of  1871  he  accepted  the  managership  of  Roch- 
ester, N.  Y.,  ofTice  on  the  A.  &  P.  Company's  lines. 
He  filled  this  position  abl}',  the  receipts  of  the  office 
being  largely  increased  during  his  stay;  but  ineffi- 
cient fixcilities  and  co-operation  in  the  larger  offices, 
disheartened  him,  and  he  returned  to  Portland,  re- 
suming his  old  position,  which  he  has  held  ever 


since,  excepting  a  transfer  which  placed  him  at 
Duxburj'-,  Mass.,  on  the  French  cable  wires  during 
the  Franco-Prussian  war.  Here  the  work  was  very 
heavy,  Mr.  Shaw  alternating  on  the  eight-hour  trick 
with  Messrs.  Kettles  and  Bed  win. 

Besides  his  accomplishments  as  a  telegrapher,  Mr. 
Shaw  possesses  rare  natural  abilities  as  an  artist. 
His  crayon  portraits  are  wonderful  for  their  truth- 
fulness of  expression.  The  finish  of  his  work  can 
not  j'ct  of  course  be  compared  Avith  a  Rouse  or  a 
Strain,  but  bids  fair,  with  practice,  to  approach 
these  masters  in  a  wonderful  degree.  It  would  be 
iiscless  to  dwell  upon  his  literary  abilities ;  the 
many  articles  from  the  genial  pen  of  "  Oncy  Gagin  " 
speak  for  themselves.  His  abilities  telegraphically 
are  in  every  respect  first-class,  but  possessing  that 
humility  peculiar  to  able  minds,  which  so  well  cor- 
responds with  the  gentleness  often  shown  in  the 
powerful  and  valiant  soldier,  he  does  not  disdain  to 
lend  a  helping  hand  to  mediocrity,  and  has  thus, 
by  his  native  goodness  of  heart  and  genial  disposi- 
tion, won  hosts  of  warm  friends,  who  feel  that  his 
thoughtful,  obliging  manners  have  done  much 
toward  lightening  their  tasks,  and  making  faithful 
performance  of  duty  a  homage  that  he  has  justly 
earned,  and  which  he  fully  receives. 


Tlie  TelefjrapU  DispatcJt, 


A  STORY  OF  TELEGRAPHY  IN  THE  EARLY  DAYS. 


CHAPTER     I . 

The  mystic  wire  is  in  llic  air. 
It  winds  from  shore  to  shore, 

By  dark  Missouri's  turbid  tide. 
By  deep  Niajj^aru's  roar. 

Bear  alone:  the  liii;htnina;  song, 

Down  the  Ohio ; 
A  tliousand  miles  are  already  up, 

And  thousands  more  to  "xo. 


It  was  late  one  Satunlay  evening  in  De- 
cember, 1847,  tliat  after  finisliing  some  en- 
grossing correspondence,  I  arose  with  the 
intention  of  immediately  proceeding  to  my 
quiet  lodgings  in  Chestnut  Street,  there  to 
take  the  welcome  rest  that  ushers  in  the  day 
of  sacred  repose.  It  had  been  a  busy  day 
and  a  toilsome  one.  I  had  been  alone  in  care 
of  the  two  registers  connecting  with  Balti- 
more and  New  York,  the  day  cold  and  rainy, 
and  both  lines  workint?  with  a  fitful  uncer- 
tainty,  corresponding  well  with  the  weather. 
Slowly  and  tediously  had  the  new  wonder 
performed  her  office.  The  perfection  to 
which  telegraphic  structures  have  since  ar- 
rived was  then  unknown.  It  was  the  nurs- 
ing of  a  rickety  child,  the  guiding  of  a  keel- 
less  craft.  Yet  the  constant  suspicion  of  my 
own  ignorance  had  made  me  patient.  Hour 
after  hour  I  repeated  and  repeated — aye,  to 
the  seventh  time — each  dispatch  to  my  pa- 
tient associate  at  the  other  terminus.  I  sighed 
and  longed  for  dinner,  but  sighed  in  vain.  A 
cup  of  coffee  from  a  neighboring  restaurant 
gave  new  patience  to  my  troubled  spirit. 
Yet  nine  o'clock  found  me  with  my  files  all 
clear  and  letters  all  written,  a  wearied  mar- 
tyr to  a  new  and  unpromising  pursuit. 

Before  rising  from  the  hard  stool  on  which 
I  had  performed  my  martyrdom  (we  had  no 
stuffed  chairs  in  those  days),  I  moralized  a 
moment.  The  revolutions  I  had  innocently 
caused  on  Wall  Street  gave  me  no  concern. 
Bull  Bridges  had  been  a  steady  attendant  at 
the  pine  railing  which  kept  the  inquisitive 
])ublic  from  overflowing  me ;  and  the  size  of 
his  quid  and  the  magnitude  of  his  "stream" 
indicated    the    agitation    of    the   "fancies." 


Busy  Sylvester  and  grim  Riddle,  too,  Avere 
anxious  and  inquiring.  Yet  "Wall  Street  af- 
fairs had  no  lodgement  in  my  anxieties,  and 
they  had  come  and  gone,  as  had  the  ill-tem- 
pered winds  without,  free  from  sympathy 
with  me. 

Otherwise,  however,  the  day  had  been 
eventful.  Joy  and  sorrow  had  found  in  me 
an  interested  medium.  I  had  seen  some  of 
the  few  phases  of  eventful  life  just  beginning 
to  be  intrusted  to  the  new  messenger  which 
the  kind-hearted  and  ingenious  student  of 
Poughkeepsie  had  given  to  his  country.  It 
had  identified  me  with  my  race.  I  was  a 
necessity.  Love  had  opened  lier  heart  to  me, 
and  in  my  faithful  hands  had  her  secret  been 
held.  Agony  had  forced  me  to  a  partnership. 
Jealousy  had  made  me  hear  the  imeasy  grit- 
ting of  her  teeth.  Joy  had  rung  his  merry 
laugh  in  my  ears,  and  sorrow  had  wet  [my 
hands  Avith  tears  that  met  my  own. 

How  various  had  been  my  mission  !  IIow 
many  vibrating  chords  had  been  sounded 
that  day  by  my  instrumentality !  I  had 
learned  a  lesson  of  human  sorrow  wliich  suc- 
ceeding years  have  only  Avidened  and  deej)- 
ened.  I  learned  to  prepaie  my  own  heart 
for  the  storms  of  life  and  the  anguish  of  the 
years  to  come.  It  was  well.  Some  of  these 
have  already  come.  There  are  others  still  to 
follow.  'Tis  pleasant  to  know  that  amid 
life's  sunshine  as  in  its  darkness,  Avhen  the 
stars  are  cloudless  as  when  they  liave  one  by 
one  hid  behind  the  iratherinar  crloom  of  clouds, 
that  the  Great  Pilot  is  at  the  helui,  and  the 
war-ship  of  life,  careening  i>pon  a  thousand 
waves,  is  still  steady  on  her  course,  safe  in 
His  hands. 


80 


LIGUTNING  FLASHES. 


And  now  for  home.  My  little  room  in  the 
third  story  -with  its  modest  farniture,  but 
clean  white  bed  linen,  and  checi-ful  fire,  held 
out  new  charms  to  me.  Already  I  was  with- 
in its  clean,  warm  blankets,  thankful  for  its 
sweet  and  quiet  repose,  and  dreaniing  of  the 
coming  day,  when  man  and  beast  were  alike 
to  enjoy  the  blessedness  of  the  week's  grand 
lioliday. 

Before  turning  off  the  gas,  however,  I  Avent 
to  the  messenger's  table,  to  see  whether  that 
worthy  had  performed  his  duties,  and  properly 
delivered  his  dispatches.  One  only  remained 
on  his  table ;  and,  supposing  it  to  have  been 
one  not  deliverable  at  so  late  an  hour,  I  was 
on  the  point  of  leaving,  when  a  vague  suspi- 
cion of  its  import  crossed  my  memory,  and  I 
returned  to  its  examination. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  a  little  after  sunset, 
I  had  received  from  Wilmington,  Delaware, 
a  brief  dispatch  to  "  James  Mornington,  Ken- 
sington," which  had  excited  my  keen  interest. 
Its  language  was  terse,  yet  touching.  It  ut- 
tered a  name  dear  to  me.  I  had  asked  its 
quick  delivery.  The  unfaithful  hound  had 
gone  home,  chary  of  the  rain.  Here  it  lay 
midelivered.  I  opened  it.  It  read  as  fol- 
lows : 

"  Poor  Mary  will  die  to-night ;  she  asks  to 
see  you.     Come  quick. 

KEiiEccA  Warrington." 

It  was  now  half-past  nine.  The  cars  left 
at  eleven.  By  great  activity  I  could  deliver 
it  in  time  to  secure  its  purpose.  With  an  in- 
dignant malediction  of  the  lazy  subordinate, 
and  an  indefinite  resolution  to  commence  the 
week  by  an  act  of  summary  decapitation,  I 
placed  the  missive  securely  in  the  breast- 
pocket of  my  coat,  buttoned  myself  to  the 
throat,  tucked  up  my  nether  garments,  and 
sallied  out  into  the  storm. 


CHAPTER    II. 

"  Tlicrc  is,  indeed,  one  crownino;  joy, 
A  pleasure  that  eau  never  cloy, 

The  bliss  of  doinjr  good ; 
And  to  it  a  reward  is  given, 
Most  prceious  in  the  siglit  of  heaven, 

The  tear  of  gratitude." 

I  turn  aside  from  this  relation  to  have  a 


talk  with  messengers.  I  have  become,  con 
amore,  a  messenger  boy.  They  are,  there- 
fore, my  associates.  The  occasion  is  a  suit- 
able one.  We  must  see  if  we  cannot  realize 
our  position.  What  part  do  we  bear  in  the 
great  system  of  communication  now  develop- 
ing itself? 

Here,  for  example,  I  carry  a  message  from 
the  house  of  death,  dictated  by  the  absorbing 
circumstance  of  the  decline  of  an  afiectionatc 
sister,  longing  to  see  her  only  brother  before 
her  trembling  spirit  says  farewell  to  earth. 
The  telegraph  to  her  is  the  minister  of  heaven. 
But  for  it,  no  message  could  have  reached 
her  brother's  home,  and  fresh  and  bitter  tears 
would  have  wet  the  pillow  of  death.  But  its 
power  has  become  known  to  her ;  with  trem- 
bling hope  it  is  carried  to  the  office ;  a  kind, 
attentive  operator  received  and  sent  it  tome; 
it  came  in  good  season  to  secure  to  that  dying 
girl  her  heart's  desire.  Ah  !  boys,  there  is 
not  one  of  you  but  would  have  run  like  a 
mercury  to  deliver  it.  And  yet  here  am  I 
doing  what  a  mean  exception  to  the  corps 
should  have  done  hours  before !  Ilis  name 
is  known  to  me.  I  will  not  give  it.  But  in 
some  dark  hour,  if  he  yet  lives,  he  will  sigh 
for  comfort  he  cannot  procure. 

Boj's,  one  word  more  !  Electricity  is  very 
fast — very.  It  compasses  the  earth  in  a  sec- 
ond. But  it  needs  you  at  the  end.  It  cannot 
do  without  you.  You  are,  in  many  import- 
ant respects,  the  life,  the  energy,  the  soul  of 
the  system.  The  postboy  is  a  mere  piece  of 
baggage  compared  to  you.  Remember  that 
in  your  hands  is  committed  an  important 
trust.  Day  by  day,  human  happiness  and 
commercial  success  depend  on  your  prompt- 
ness and  integrity.  You  are  watched  closely. 
No  boy  has  a  surer  passport  to  a  i)rosperous 
and  honorable  manhood  than  the  faithful  tel- 
egraph messenger  boy. 

A  few  years  ago  I  saw  one  such.  Quiet, 
but  ever  at  hi*  post,  he  seemed  to  compre- 
hend that  on  him  devolved  an  important 
duty.  His  neat,  clean  attire  showed  that  he 
was  well-bred  and  cared  for ;  while  his  re- 
spectful address  and  love  of  truth  revealed 


777^  TELEGRAPH  DISPATCH. 


31 


the  impress  of  the  heart  and  counsel  of  a 
pious  mother.  All  knew  the  telegraph  boy, 
and  many  an  encouraging  Avord  was  spoken 
to  him  by  the  merchants,  us  he  delivered  to 
them  their  telegrams  from  his  dispatch-book, 
unsoiled  by  iinger-mark  or  rain,  and  took 
their  receipts.  Years  have  passed  since  then. 
He  is  still  young.  Yet  his  course  lias  been 
onward  and  upward. 

Early  in  the  long  summer  mornings,  he  used 
to  rise  with  the  day,  put  on  the  local  batte- 
ry, and,  while  all  else  were  asleep,  be  strug- 
gling to  learn  how  to  operate.  This  he  did 
for  some  time  unknown.  With  genuine  mod- 
esty he  struggled  alone.  He  succeeded,  and 
became  a  beautiful  writer.  The  manager  of 
the  office  was  taken  suddenly  ill,  but  his  mes- 
senger boy  conducted  his  business  for  him 
until  restored.  He  distinguished  himself  by 
an  indefatigable  industry  in  the  delivery  of 
dispatches.  No  rain  or  storm  could  stop  him. 
These  only  quickened  his  gait.  He  is  now 
manager  of  a  respectable  office,  with  an  ex- 
cellent salary,  and  no  one  has  better  prospects 
of  promotion  than  he.  The  two  Durfees  were 
examples ;  both,  alas !  now  passed  awa}-,  but 
bearinir  with  them  the  cherished  remembrance 
of  all  who  knew  them. 

In  the  prosecution  of  my  duties  as  superin- 
tendent, I  loved  to  meet  the  messengers.  The 
shake  of  their  young  hands  was  ever  gladsome 
to  me.  I  saw  in  them  the  embryo  managers 
of  our  offices.  I  liked  to  cheer  them  in  the 
prosecution  of  their  arduous  duties,  and  as, 
one  by  one,  they  were  promoted  to  more  re- 
munerative, although  not  more  important  sta- 
tions, I  seemed  to  enjoy  their  success  with 
more  than  a  personal  pleasure.  Their  own 
hopes  and  mine  united. 

But  for  the  reprobate  who  sent  me  out 
in  that  dreary  rain,  already  weary  with  the 
multitudinous  duties  of  the  day,  I  have, 
even  now,  a  most  punishing  recollection. 
Well,  I  ought  to  forgive  him  for  the  experi- 
ence of  which  he  was  the  cause.  My  contact 
with  sorrow  had  been  slight.  I  was  young, 
and  my  day  had,  so  far,  been  one  of  sunshine 
and  delight.     I  was  to  be  initiated  into  the 


shadows  of  life,  to  feel  and  witness  its  gloom. 
Many  are  the  tears  these  cheeks  Iiave  borne 
since  then.  I  can  almost  excuse  the  lazy 
hound  who,  to  save  himself  from  a  tedious 
walk,  had  clieated  a  dying  girl  of  the  solace 
of  a  brother's  affection,  but  who  had,  unwit- 
tingl}-,  lifted  up  one  fold  of  the  curtain  which 
hid  me  from  the  realities  of  life. 


CHAPTER    III. 

"  Ob,  death,  what  art  thou  !— A  husbandman  that  reap- 
ctli  alwajs, 
Out  of  season  as  in  season,  -with  the  sickle  in  his 
hand." 

The  communication  of  sorrowful  tidincrs  is 
in  itself  a  sorrowful  task.  To  a  sensitive 
mind  it  produces  all  the  agitation  of  personal 
grief.  The  tear  is  ready  to  mingle  with  the 
tear  expected.  The  heart  throbs  with  a  pain- 
ful consciousness  of  the  possession  of  a  secret, 
which,  discovered,  must  agonize;  which  the 
possessor  would  gladly  have  die  with  him ; 
but  which  he  must  convey  with  delicate  sym- 
pathy lest  another,  less  moved  by  sympathy, 
might,  with  indelicate  haste,  send,  like  an 
arrow  doubly  barbed,  to  the  bosom  it  most 
concerns. 

So,  as  through  the  storm  I  wended  my  way 
to  a  home  I  might  render  desolate,  before  me 
ever  appeared  the  image  of  a  suffering  girl, 
moaning,  in  her  agony,  for  her  distant  broth- 
er. Long  before  I  reached  my  destination,  I 
had  marked,  in  imagination,  all  her  features, 
pencilled  her  soi-rowful  eye,  and  enshrined 
her  in  my  heart  as  a  sister,  whose  pillow  I 
should  have  rejoiced  to  smooth,  and  whose 
ebbing  spirit  I  should  have  loved  to  solace 
with  the  hopes  of  a  better  land  than  this. 

A  single  light  illumined  a  room  of  the 
house  where  Mornington  resided,  which 
seemed,  from  its  locality  and  appearance,  to 
be  occupied  by  one  in  the  middle  walks  of 
life.  No  plate  on  the  door  indicated  the  oc- 
cupant, but  the  number,  G4,  painted  in  jilain 
figures  over  it,  and  lighted  by  a  lamp  near 
by,  satisfied  me  that  I  had  reached  the  place. 

Knocking  gently  at  the  door,  it  was  opened 
by  an  elderly  lady,  who,  with  a  politeness  I 


33 


LIGUTNING   FLASHES. 


scarcely  expocteil,  invited  me  to  walk  in  and 
await  her  son's  return. 

"This  is  his  birthday,"  slie  said,  "and  he 
and  part  of  the  family  liave  gone  to  a  little 
merry-making  near  by,  Avhencc  I  expect  them 
every  moment.  Tiiey  promised  to  return  by 
ten,  and  it  is  now  a  few  minutes  beyond." 

"It  is  somewhat  important  I  should  see 
liim  soon,"  I  replied;  "I  have  a  message 
from  his  sister,  to  which  I  would  be  glad  to 
carry  a  reply." 

"  From  my  daughter  jNIary  ?  " 

"  I  believe  it  must  be  from  her." 

"  From  Wilmington  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  received  it  from  there  this  even- 


ing. 


"  You  did  not,  then,  come  from  Wilming- 
ton ?  I  was  in  hopes  you  might  have  seen 
my  daughter,  and  brought  us  news  of  her 
health.  l*oor  child ;  we  sent  her  there  to  see 
if  chanire  of  scene  would  restore  her  to  health 
again.  IJut — she  is  a  tender  plant,  and  need- 
ed a  mother's  care.  But  her  brother  proposed 
the  change,  and  to  her  his  wish  is  her  guide." 

"  The  dis])atch  I  bear  would  indicate  her 
ill  health,  and,  fearing  that  it  might  be  im- 
portant to  be  delivered  soon,  I  came  thus  late 
to  deliver  it." 

I  said  this  in  a  tone  of  voice  I  intended 
should  be  easy  and  unagitated  ;  yet,  having 
absorbed  my  mind  with  the  sul)ject  of  it,  my 
speech  was  tremulous,  and  I  saw  at  once  that 
the  })erceptions  of  a  motiier's  heart  were 
aroused.  The  knitting-kneedle  dropped  from 
her  hand,  and,  with  a  hurried,  anxious  voice, 
she  replied — 

"  Has  anything  happened,  sir — is  my  daugh- 
ter worse  ?  You  seem  to  I'cgard  your  errand 
here  as  urcjent.  Something  must  be  wrong! 
What  keeps  my  son  ?  lie  seldom  disa})points 
me;  I  am  aged  and  infirm,  and  could  not  join 
them  in  their  gathering."  Then,  lowering 
her  head,  she  said,  sorrowfully,  "  My  i)Oor 
Mary,  I  fear  thou  wilt  soon  leave  us."  And 
I  saw  the  tears  coursing  each  other  down  her 
aged  cheeks,  as,  shaking  her  head  soitow- 
fuUy,  she  went  to  the  window  to  see  if  there 
were  indications  of  her  son's  return. 


.There  was  no  time  to  lose.  I  might  have 
handed  my  message  to  that  aged  mother;  I 
rose  twice  to  do  so.  Had  I  done  so,  I  would 
have  hurried  from  the  house.  I  know,  and 
none  knows  more  deei)ly,  the  power  of  a 
mother's  love ;  the  clinging,  living  grasp  with 
which  it  encompasses  her  children,  and  I 
dared  not  give  her  the  chalice,  which  would 
surely  induce  the  ebullitions  of  a  grief  I  could 
not  bear;  and  yet  I  must  accomplish  my  er- 
rand. That  dying  girl  seemed  following  me 
with  tears  and  low  expostulating  entreaties 
to  grant  her  request.  Fail  I  must  not,  and  I 
was  just  about  to  projiose  to  find  the  object 
of  my  search  amid  his  festivities,  when  a 
rapid  sound  of  footsteps  at  the  door,  and  the 
ring  of  merry  voices,  assured  me  of  his  re- 
turn. "Ah,"  thought  I,  "what  a  mission  is 
mine!"  I  began  to  hate  my  avocation.  I 
felt  myself  to  be  a  miserable  raven  coming 
to  croak  a  note  of  woe,  where  all  was  happi- 
ness, and  hilarity,  and  hope. 

The  party  who  thus  came  in  upon  us  were, 
first,  a  young,  gentlemanly-looking  man  of 
thirty,  Avith  a  gentle,  benignant  countenance, 
deeply  expressive  of  inward  sensitiveness  and 
delicacy;  a  little  lady  of  twenty-five,  with  a 
bright,  cheerful  countenance — the  token  of  a 
trusting  and  open  heart  Avithin — whose  merry 
voice  and  evident  sweetness  of  disposition  re- 
called to  mind  the  pretty  Spanish  song,  which 
we  must  give  you,  kind  reader,  if  only  to  show 
how  strangely  thoughts  mix  themselves  up  in 
this  sensitive  heart  of  ours,  as  well  as  to  break 
up,  in  some  degree,  the  heaviness  of  our  story, 
but  which,  in  the  object  before  us,  seemed  to 
have  so  true  an  application : 

"  In  a  little  precious  diamond, 

What  splendor  meets  the  eyes! 
In  a  little  lump  of  suujar. 

How  much  of  sweetness  lies! 
So,  in  a  little  woman. 

Love  urows  and  multiplies; 
You  recollect,  tlie  proverb  says— 

'  A  word  unto  the  wise.' 

"  A  pepper-corn  is  very  small, 

But  seasons  every  dinner 
More  than  all  other  condiments. 

Although  'tis  sprinkled  thinner. 
Just  so  alittle  woman  is, 

If  love  will  let  you  win  her; 
Tlicj-e's  not  a  joy  in  all  the  world 

You  would  not  iiud  within  her. 


THE  TELEGRAPn  DISPATCH. 


33 


"  And,  as  within  the  little  rose, 

You'll  find  the  richest  dyes, 
And  in  a  liitle  irrain  of  gold 

Much  price  and  value  lies; 
As  from  a  little  balsam 

Much  odor  does  arise, 
So,  in  a  little  woman, 

There's  a  taste  of  paradise. 

"  The  skylark  and  the  nightingale. 

Though  smiiU  and  light  of  wing, 
Yet  warhle  sweeter  in  the  grove 

Than  all  the  birds  that  sing. 
And  so  a  little  woman, 

Though  a  very  little  thing, 
Is  sweeter  than  all  other  fiweet*, 

Even  Howers  that  bloom  in  spring." 

The  third  was  a  "brifxht  little  crirl  of  five 
summers,  a  merry,  prattling  child,  with  little 
roiand  cheeks  and  chin,  who,  with  her  hands 
full  of  confections,  was  struggling  between 
the  sleepiness  of  so  late  an  hour  and  the  hil- 
arity of  the  festive  occasion  from  which  she 
had  returned.  It  was  an  interesting  Fcene  to 
see  the  beautiful  tokens  of  affection  pass  be- 
tween them  and  the  aged  lady,  as  she  kissed, 
with  true  maternal  warmth,  her  children  and 
little  granddaughter,  wishing  her  boy  many 
a  returning  birthday  and  a  long  and  happy 
union  with  his  companion — tokens  which,  in 
their  delicacy  and  touching  affectionateness, 
I  fear  are  too  rapidly  passing  aAvay  from  our 
households.  This  greeting,  however,  was 
soon  terminated  by  the  conscious  presence  of 
a  stranfjer. 

It  was  in  vain  to  endeavor  to  prepare  this 
loving  circle  for  the  message  of  death.     I  es- 
sayed  to  do  it.     Kind  words  were  welling 
from  my  heart,  but  they  refused  arrangement 
in  the  preface  work  of  consolation.    I  handed 
ray  message,  took  my  hat,  hoping  to  escape 
the  burst  of  emotion  which  I  felt  was  to  fol- 
low, when  I  was  paralyzed  by  a  moan  so  deep 
and  agonized  that  threescore  years  and  ten 
shall  pass  in  fruitless  effort  to  efface  it  from 
ray  memory.     In  a  moment  that  little  group 
were  crowded  together  in  a  most  touching 
attitude  of  mortal  grief.     The  aged  mother, 
with  her  trembling  hands  clasped,  her  eyes 
closed,  and  her  furrowed  features  livid,  as  if 
in  death,  could  only  exclaim,  in  agonized  ac- 
cents, "  My  poor  child !  "  and  sank  back  mo- 
tionless upon  her  chair. 
It  was  thus  I  left  them  unnoticed.    I  doubt- 


ed not  Mr.  Mornington  would  make  immedi- 
ate preparation  to  leave  by  the  train  at  eleven 
P.  M.,  and  my  mind  was  relieved  of  a  load  of 
anxiety.  Such  duties,  since  then,  have,  alas  ! 
been  too  frequent  to  affect  me  thus  deeply; 
but  the  performance  of  this  was  accompanied 
by  even  deeper  anxiety  than  the  language  of 
my  narrative  might  seem  to  indicate.  I  was 
like  a  sailor  boy  looking  with  awe  on  the  bil- 
lows he  sees  for  the  first  time,  but  which, 
afterward,  he  rides  without  the  thought  of 
their  magnitude  or  danger. 

During  my  return,  my  mind  dwelt  much 
on   the   responsibilities   the   telegraph,  as   a 
great  agent  of  humanity  as  well  as  a  medi- 
um of  commerce,  was  to  bear  in  its  future 
history.     The  world  had,  as  yet,  learned  little 
of  its  power.     It  was  a  giant,  the  mighty  en- 
ergies of  whose  sinews  had  not  been  tried  for 
any  extended  purpose  of  human  use.     Enter- 
ing alike  into  the  social  as  into  the  commer- 
cial necessities  of  society,  its  destiny  was  evi- 
dently general,  and  of  the  most  multiform 
application.     To  my  mind,  it  had  already  be- 
come a  sure  warning  to  the  universe,  in  whose 
beams   every    clime   might   rejoice,   making 
mankind,  the  world  over,  a  common  brother- 
hood, and  associating    earthly  governments 
into  a  close  community  of  common  interests. 
I  saw  it  guiding  or  accomplishing  the  diplo- 
macy of  courts,  the  adjudicator  of  national 
disputes,   the   sail   of    fleets,   the    march  of 
armies,  the  fiscal  arrangements  of  national 
treasuries,  the  exchanges  of  commerce,  the 
defenses  of  extended  seaports,  municipal  reg- 
ulations, and  every  public    want   in    which 
communication  by  voice,  or  sign,  or  courier, 
has  hitherto  borne  their  tardy  parts.     But 
after  all  these  uses  of  its  wondrous  power 
had  passed  like  a  panorama  before  my  mind, 
I  saw  that  on  the  minor  arra<ngements,  by 
which    these    capacities  were  made    useful, 
must  depend  its  great  usefulness  and  accept- 
ability.    Science  had  shown  its  power  to  an- 
nihilate distance  and  time;    it  had  enabled 
man  to  sit  in  his  arm-chair  and  listen,  as  it 
were,  to  the  roar  of  all  of  earth's  oceans 
breaking  upon  her  many  shores,  and  hear  the 


34 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


jubilee  of  her  countless  tongues.  It  had 
placed  the  avenues  and  opportunities  of  com- 
merce and  social  convenience  within  human 
roach,  a  bell-pull  in  the  chambers  of  the 
world ;  but  there  it  ceased,  and  the  play  of 
minor  agencies  commenced.  The  receiving 
operator,  the  transcribing  and  recording 
clerk,  and,  above  all,  the  faithful  messenger, 
had  to  complete  the  work  of  an  agency  thus 
otherwise  almost  omniscient  and  omnipresent. 
My  position  as  superintendent  of  the  first  line 
built  by  private  enterprise  in  America,  be- 
came one  of  deeper  anxiety  to  me.  The  twig 
seemed  in  my  hands.  Others,  it  is  true,  were 
skilled  and  interested  spectators.  I  was  sub- 
ordinate to  controlling  minds ;  yet  their  pres- 
ence and  influence  were  hidden  amid  the  ap- 
peals which  ray  own  mind  urged  to  watch 
its  growth,  and  bend  it  into  forms  of  beauty. 
It  came  upon  me  like  the  birth  of  a  first-born, 
whose  future  I  was  to  watch,  and  into  whose 
expanding  mind  I  was  to  pour  the  genial 
milk  of  human  kindness,  and  thoughts  sug- 
gestive  of  pure  and  elevated  purpose.  It  was 
then  I  resolved  to  give  the  new  enterprise  all 
the  best  services  of  my  head  and  heart. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

"  fiird  thee,  and  do  thy  watching  well, 
Duty's  faithful  sentinel ! " 

Instead  of  going  direct  to  my  lodgings,  I 
returned  to  the  ofiice  to  assure  myself  that 
the  machinery  was  carefully  cut  off  from  con- 
nection with  the  wires  outside,  in  case  of  dan- 
ger from  lightning  during  the  night.  This  I 
found  I  had  neglected  to  do  when  the  busi- 
ness of  the  day  had  closed,  and  I  was  sur- 
prised to  notice,  on  examining  the  magnet, 
that  some  distant  operator  was  endeavoring 
to  call  me.  Relighting  the  gas,  I  found  the 
operator  at  Wilmington  assiduously  endeav- 
oring to  arouse  me,  hopeless  as  must  have 
been  his  task.  The  English  reviewer  who 
described  a  telegraph  operator  as  a  taciturn, 
suspicious-looking  individual,  never  say  Jo- 
seph Beatty,  who,  with  his  ample  rotundity, 
carried  within  him  the  blessedness  of  most 


fat  men,  much  goodness  of  heart.  As  evi- 
dence of  this,  here  was  he  iudefatigably  call- 
ing with  a  patience  characteristic  of  him, 
P  P  P  P— VY.  P  P  P— 77.  which  the  click  of 
ray  register  brought  to  me  with  a  certain 
slowness  of  sound,  as  if  hope  was  beginning 
to  wane  within  him.  These  characters,  be  it 
known,  are  the  signals  by  which  an  office  is 
called,  and  mean  "Philadelphia!  Philadel- 
phia !  Philadelphia !  Are  you  ready  to  take 
a  message  from  rae  ?  "  Replying  immediate- 
ly to  his  call,  I  found  that  the  friends  of  the 
dying  girl,  moved  by  her  constant  wailing 
for  a  brother,  who,  by  some  peculiar  sympa- 
thies, had  become  especially  dear  to  her,  and 
who,  not  receiving  any  reply  to  her  message, 
had  shown  signs  of  deep  despondency,  had 
come  to  the  office  and  besought  Mr.  Beatty 
to  make  the  effort,  thus  apparently  so  prov- 
identially successful  Gladdened  by  the  sin- 
gular coincidence,  I  immediately  gave  infor- 
mation of  my  delivery  of  the  message,  and 
my  belief  that  the  request  of  the  sufierer 
would  be  answered  by  the  speedy  arrival  of 
her  brother  in  the  night  train. 

And  do  you  think  we  took  no  pleasure 
in  our  work,  ye  sellers  of  tape  and  sugar? 
Was  there  not,  good  Joseph,  a  kind  streak 
of  peculiar  sunshine  pass  athwart  that  gener- 
ous pauch  of  thine  in  thus  ministering  to  the 
relief  of  human  sorrow,  especially  when  the 
subject  of  it  was  young  and  beautiful  ? 
Even  over  our  lean  and  cadaverous  features 
a  smile  of  warm  complacency,  and  a  certain 
gentleness  and  approvingness  about  the 
heart,  richly  repaid  me  for  my  weary  and 
stormy  journey ;  nor  did  I  seek  to  repress  an 
uprising  prayer  to  Ilim  who  smoothes  the 
couch  of  earthly  sorrow  and  gilds  it  with 
the  luster  of  the  better  land,  that  life  might 
be  prolonged  until  the  longed-for  union  of 
those  loving  hearts. 

Oh !  how  sweet  came  sleep  that  night ! 
Did  it  not  come  to  thee,  kind  Joe,  like  gentle 
rain  upon  the  tender  herb,  albeit  thine  herb- 
age numbered  so  many  years  ?  Did  not  the 
smile,  the  kind,  grateful  smile  of  that  pretty 
child  close  gently  thine  eyelids  even  as  the 


THE  TELEGRAPH  DISPATCH. 


summer's  breath  at  eve  closes  the  corolla  of 
the  gentle'  flowers — those  delicate  eyes  of 
thine,  Joe,  that  love  so  much  to  have  the 
smile  of  beauty  rest  thereon?  And  those 
thankful,  loving  orbs,  pictured  to  our  imag- 
ination by  a  busy  though  fanciful  pencil, 
closed  ours  also,  and  we  sunk  to  rest  at 
night's  silent  noon  as  if  the  sounds  of  softest 
music,  heard  from  afar  o'er  Borneo's  smooth- 
est bosom  was  lulling  us  to  repose. 


CHAPTER    V. 

"Atoms  and  thoughts  arc  used  a£;ain,  mixing  in  varied 

combinations ; 
And  though,  by  molding  them  anew  thou  makest  them 

thine  own, 
Yet  have  they  served  thousands,  and  all  their  merit  is 

of  Go^y—Tupper. 

Many  months  after  all  this  had  occurred, 
and  other  things  had  excluded  it  from  my 
memory,  I  was  walking  on  Chestnut  Street, 
Philadelphia,  accompanied  by  a  friend,  in  the 
mutual  enjoyment  of  an  evening  of  peculiar 
tranquillity,  when  my  eye  fell  upon  the  fea- 
tures of  a  lady  and  gentleman  slowly  ap- 
proaching us,  with  whom  ray  mind  endeav- 
ored, but  in  vain,  to  associate  some  recollec- 
tion of  a  past  acquaintance. 

They  seemed  engrossed  in  a  quiet,  medita- 
tive conversation,  their  eyes  looking  down- 
ward, but  both  countenances  glowing  with 
an  unspeakable  calmness  and  repose,  as  if 
heaven  dwelt  within,  and  conveying  the 
impression  of  the  meaning  of  those  beautiful 
words  which  speak  of  the  possession  of  a 
"  peace  Avhich  passeth  all  understanding." 

The  features  of  the  gentleman  were  espe- 
cially familiar  to  me.  Yet  I  racked  the  dusty 
corners  of  my  memory  in  vain  to  assure  my- 
self of  an  acquaintance.  He  was  dressed  with 
much  plainness  but  true  elegance;  his  cos- 
tume, however,  bearing  a  very  subordinate 
part  in  my  observation.  After  resting  upon 
the  strongly-marked  yet  delicately  defined 
lines  of  sympathy  around  his  eyes,  forehead, 
and  the  corners  of  the  mouth,  my  heart  bound- 
ed to  him  as  to  a  brother ;  and  as  they  passed 
me,  and  I  could  but  just  hear  him  say :  "  Yes, 
Mary,  that  was  a  dark  night  to  us  all,"  the 


occurrence  to  which  I  liave  before  alluded 
broke  at  once  upon  me,  and  I  remembered 
the  night  in  which  I  became  a  messenger-boy, 
and  saw  for  the  first  time  James  Mornington, 
liis  pretty  little  Avife,  and  mother.  It  was 
certainly  he — I  could  not  be  mistaken. 

liut  who  was  she  who  thus  so  closely  re- 
sembled him  in  the  winsomeness  of  her  pale 
features,  the  interesting  gentleness  of  whose 
countenance  had,  even  more  than  his  own, 
riveted  my  attention,  and  caused  a  moment- 
ary throb  of  deep  personal  interest,  as  if  some 
kindred  spirit  had  magnetized  me  with  its 
presence. 

Mary !  That  was  the  name  of  my  first- 
born, the  most  beautiful  name  given  to 
womankind — a  name  associated  with  wo- 
man's sincerity  and  purity — with  childhood's 
loveliness  and  aftection.  tt  was  the  name  of 
that  sister,  too,  whose  dying  request  had  so 
excited  my  interest  and  roused  my  sympa- 
thies. "Was  this  that  sister  restored  from  the 
very  ebbings  of  the  tide  of  life  ?  All  the 
power  of  a  woman's  curiosity  was  upon  me, 
and  so  much  engrossed  had  I  become,  that  I 
had  paid  no  notice  to  the  request  of  my 
friend  to  enlighten  him  as  to  the  cause  of  my 
silence  and  abstraction. 

We  continued  our  walk  away  to  the  Schuyl- 
kill, enjoying  the  cheerful,  elegant  quiet  that 
pervaded  that  j^art  of  the  city,  and  the  weath- 
er, which  was  most  delightful,  our  conversa- 
tion dwelling  much  on  the  circumstances 
which  I  had  just  narrated,  and  which  had 
awakened  within  the  highly  religious  and  in- 
telligent-sympathies of  my  friend  the  source 
of  much  elevated  thought  and  comment,  to 
which  I  became  a  pleased  and  gratified  lis- 
tener. 

"Every  day's  experience,"  said  Wardlaw, 
"  induces  me  to  note  an  overruling  Providence 
in  the  most  minor  events  of  life.  The  thought 
which  induces  a  charity  is  a  whisper  of  the 
spirit  to  my  heart.  Tbe  reception  of  that 
charity  is,  mayhap,  an  era  in  the  life  of  the 
beneficiary,  a  rainbow  on  his  pathway,  bright- 
ening his  future  and  kindling  an  undying 
hope.     When,  also,  in  the  performance  of  ac- 


LIGHTNINO  FLASHES. 


customed  duty,  untoward  circumstances  ar- 
rest the  hand,  and  render  futile  the  best-laid 
dcsiccns,  I  have  seen  tlie  imai^ined  evil  so 
often  the  precursor  of  unexpected  pleasure, 
that  God  seems  to  guide  tlie  very  cup  from 
wliich  I  drink,  even  as  He  seems  to  guide  the 
trickling  waters  that  the  dew-drops  form  in 
the  valley  and  flow  onward  to  the  great 
ocean,  where  all  the  world's  streams  unite." 

"  Yes,"  i-eplied  I,  "  and  I  have  often  thought 
how  strangely  a  passing  thought,  arrested, 
leads  to  the  most  wondrous  results.  The 
falling  of  an  apple  leading  Newton  to  the 
gigantic  truth  of  scientific  discovery,  on  which 
are  based  the  pillars  of  the  world ;  the  boiling 
of  a  kettle  leading  to  the  surprising  appliances 
of  steam.  And  the  idea  that  a  thought  like 
that  which  passed  through  Morse's  mind,  per- 
haps in  some  lonely  hour,  when  no  human 
voice  was  near  him,  or  away  out  on  the  deep 
sea,  tossed  about  upon  its  billows,  should  be 
now  the  promising  sustenance  of  so  many 
families,  with  the  pi'ospect  of  thousands  feed- 
ing by  its  mechanical  use,  aside  from  the  con- 
veniences it  is  introducing  into  society,  fills 
me,  at  times,  with  emotions  of  awe  at  the 
contemplation  of  the  hidden  agencies  around 


rae 


)> 


"Well,  Reid,"  replied  Wardlaw,  "your 
business  interests  me  more  than  anything  on 
which  my  mind  has  recently  dwelt.  Morse's 
application  of  the  magnetic  force  is  certainly 
a  most  simple  one,  and  for  that  reason  likely 
to  be  useful.  I  should  glory  in  being  the 
possessor  of  such  a  thought ;  but  I  regard 
him  honored,  chiefly,  as  the  medium  by  which 
one  of  the  grand  providences  by  which  the 
condition  of  our  race  is  elevated  has  been  in- 
troduced. If  he  is  a  right-minded  man,  he 
will  feel  so,  and  the  influence  of  a  mind  so 
impressed  will  add  much  to  the  luster  which 
its  future  use  will  reflect  upon  him." 

"  I  am  inclined  to  believe,"  I  replied,  "  that 
Morse  so  regards  it,  and  I  am  also  impressed 
with  the  dignity  of  its  uses  and  the  pleasure 
of  its  extension,  if  confided  to  suitable  liands, 
•who  will  guard  its  development  from  the 
abuses  to  which  it  must  be  peculiarly  subject. 


Already  the  great  advantage  those  who  use 
it  have  over  those  who  do  not  is  remarkable. 
Sales  are  now  made  in  distant  places  in  an 
hour,  involving  large  and  quick  profits ;  and 
in  what  I  have  been  telling  you  of  the  couple 
who  passed  us,  you  see  how  wonderfully  it  is 
to  aflTect  social  life." 

"  I  want  you  to  learn  the  result  of  that  cir- 
cumstance," eagerly  rejoined  Wardlaw  ; "  your 
connection  with  it  will  easily  place  you  in 
the  way  to  learn  all  its  details.  Be  assured 
there  is  a  spring  of  pleasure  there  in  which  I 
would  be  glad  to  be  a  sharer,  but  which  I 
have  a  keen  curiosity  to  know." 

"That  is  my  determination,"  I  replied, 
"  and  I  feel  assured  that  my  curiosity  will  be 
met  with  respect  and  kindness,  or  I  much 
mistake  the  parties  concerned  in  it.  After 
supper  this  evening  I  will  call,  and  with  as 
little  intrusiveness  as  possible  divulge  my  ob- 
ject, and  to-morrow  we  will  meet  again,  and 
you  will  know  all." 

On  returning,  thus  deeply  and  pleasantly 
engaged,  and  just  as  we  were  about  to  turn 
the  corner  at  Thirteenth  Street,  we  saw  the 
object  of  our  conversation  coming  up  Chest- 
nut Street,  and,  what  was  particularly  pleas- 
ing to  me,  Mornington  had  evidently  recog- 
nized me,  and  seemed  to  be  speaking  of  me 
to  his  companion.  Their  eyes  were  both 
directed  toward  me,  and  Wardlaw  and  I 
agreed  to  keep  on  toward  them. 

On  ai)proaching,  Mornington's  face  smiled 
in  recognition,  and  I  at  once  advanced  with 
outstretched  hand  to  join  him  in  salutation. 

"  I  am  very  pleased  to  see  you,"  Morning- 
ton  said;  "your  visit  to  \is  on  that  stormy 
night  is  associated  with  very  pleasant  recol- 
lections. Sister  Mary,  dear,"  he  added,  "  this 
is  the  gentleman  who  delivered  that  message 
of  which  we  have  spoken  so  much,"  and  we 
were  thus  introduced  to  each  other  in  a  man- , 
ner  leading  directly  to  the  object  of  my  curi- 
osity. My  friend  Wardlaw  was  also  intro- 
duced, and  at  once  a  circle  of  sympathy 
seemed  established. 

It  would  please  me  very  much,"  Miss  Morn-- 
ington  replied,  "  to  meet  one  who  has,  uncon- 


THE  TELEGRAPH  DISPATCH. 


37 


sciously,  perhaps,  saved  my  life,  and  restored 
rae  to  this  kind  brother  of  mine,  and  to  my 
dear  mother.  We  are  now  near  home;  if 
you  will  accept  our  invitation  to  a  simple  sup- 
per with  us,  we  will  be  delighted  to  have  you 
and  your  friend  join  us,  and  we  can  also  then 
express  our  gratitude  more  fully.     Come." 

This  was  said  with  so  much  frankness  and 
sincerity,  that  we  accepted  the  unexpected  re- 
quest, and  were  soon  ushered  into  a  beautiful 
residence  not  far  from  where  the  welcome  in- 
vitation was  given. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

"  'Twas  to  thy  hearth,  domestic  happiness, 
Where,  in  the  sunshine  of  a  peaceful  home, 
Love's  choicest  roses  bud,  and  burst,  and  bloom." 

The  circumstances  of  the  famify  had  much 
chancfed  since  I  first  saw  them.  A  larccc  leer- 
acy  had  fallen  to  young  Mornington,  which 
justified  the  purchase  of  the  beautiful  mansion 
into  which  we  were  now  introduced.  It  was 
furnished  with  simple  but  elegant  furniture. 
All  the  arrangements  indicated  a  refinement 
which  made  prosperity  come  to  the  Morning- 
tons  with  a  quiet  pleasure  and  adaptation  to 
their  new  condition.  Such  only  enjoy  the 
elegancies  of  life.  The  unrefined,  uneducated, 
who  come  suddenly  upon  wealth,  often  find 
these  elegancies  sources  of  sorrow.  Home  is 
filled  with  expensive  ornaments,  but  the  mind 
has  no  unison  or  congeniality  with  them.  In 
this  case  it  was  otherwise.  Affluence  found 
the  Morningtons  a  family  adapted  to  the  un- 
excited  indulsrence  of  their  new  circumstances. 
Everything  was  suitable,  and  well  arranged, 
and  beautiful.  As  I  entei'ed  I  saw  that  same 
bright-eyed  little  wife  arranging  late  flowers 
in  a  vase  near  the  window,  the  beauty  of 
whose  tints  Avere  nothing  lovelier  than  those 
which  bloomed  upon  her  own  sweet  face. 

To  both  her  and  the  aged  mother  of  Morn- 
ington we  were  kindly  introduced,  the  old 
lady  at  once  remembering  rae,  and  entering 
into  the  details  of  my  visit  with  a  gratified 
recollection,  which  promised  a  quick  solution 
of  the  matter.  She  immediately  related  to 
us  as  follows : 


"  I\Iy  daughter  Mary  here,  dear  child,  was 
the  same  who  lay  so  ill  at  Wilmington,  and 
who  so  anxiously  asked  to  see  her  brother. 
We  knew  how  delicate  she  was,  and  little 
expected  to  see  her  pleasant  face  again.  One 
remembrance  only  sustained  us.  We  knew 
she  was  ready  to  blossom  in  that  better  laud 
where  sorrow  comes  no  more.  She  trusted 
in  the  Redeemer.  That  hope  united  us.  This 
was  a  pleasant  consciousness,  even  amid  the 
agony  of  parting.  Yet  it  was  very  hard  to 
think  of  her  being  so  far  from  us,  with  none 
of  us  present  to  cheer  the  last  hours.  She 
felt  so  too,  and  this  rendered  the  expected 
approach  of  death  less  tranquil. 

"  After  the  message  was  sent  she  seemed 
calm,  but  receiving  no  reply,  and  having  no 
assurance  of  the  coming  of  any  of  the  family, 
she  yielded  to  despondency,  from  which  she 
was,  late  in  the  evening,  partially  aroused  by 
a  communication  you  sent  after  seeing  us, 
and  which  was  deemed  by  the  friends  at  Wil- 
mington an  act  of  very  unexpected  kindness, 
both  on  your  part  and  on  that  of  the  gentle- 
man there. 

"The  hours  wore  gradually  away,  but  no 
train  arrived  at  the  time  expected.  The  cars 
ran  oif  the  track  near  Darby,  detaining  them 
an  hour  and  a  hal£  The  delay  threw  Mary 
into  a  deeper  melancholy  than  before,  and 
death  seemed  very  near.  In  the  half  delirious 
state  this  found  her,  she  gave  way  to  the  sor- 
row of  her  heart,  and  exclaimed : 

" '  Xo,  no,  no  !  I  will  see  them  no  more . 
they  are  all  gone — gone ; '  and  her  head  sunk 
in  death-like  stillness  upon  her  pillow.  It  was 
thoucrht  that  a  few  moments  would  close  the 
scene,  when  James  arrived,  greatly  excited 
by  his  delay. 

"  Seeing  the  friends  weeping  around,  and 
supposing  that  all  was  really  over,  he  rushed 
to  the  bed,  and  exclaiming,  in  great  agony  of 
mind,  '  My  poor,  poor  sister,'  kissed  licr  fer- 
vently, and  gazed  on  her  pale  features  with  all 
the  passionate  affection  with  which  he  re- 
garded her. 

"That  agony  saved  her  life.  She  started 
from  the  death-like  stupor  into  which  she  had 


38 


LIOUTNING  FLASHES. 


fallen,  recalled,  as  it  were,  to  life  by  the  sound 
of  a  voice  so  dear  to  her,  clasped  her  arms 
for  a  moment  -wildly  around  his  neck,  and, 
murmuring  his  name,  fell  back  again,  ex- 
liausted,  on  her  pillow. 

"The  attending  physician  arrived  just  as 
this  occurred,  and  intimated  that  this  excite- 
ment might,  with  great  care,  be  productive 
of  happy  results.  He  advised  the  withdrawal 
of  all  the  friends  except  her  brother,  who  sat 
by  her  bedside,  watching  with  intense  emo- 
tion every  variation  of  the  features  of  the 
sullerer. 

"  By  morning  the  crisis  had  jjassed.  The 
poor  child  opened  her  eyes,  and  found  her 
brother  holding  her  hand  in  his,  and  from 
that  moment  the  work  of  restoration  began, 
Iler  recovery  was  very  slow,  but  there  she 
sits,  spared  to  us,  we  trust,  for  many  years 
to  come.  In  our  conversations  respecting  her 
sickness,  we  often  ascribe  her  recovery,  imder 
Him  who  holds  human  destiny  in  the  hollow 
of  His  hand,  to  the  use  of  the  telegraph.  It 
must  be  a  deep  source  of  gratification  to  you, 


sir,  to  have  been  thus  instrumental  in  secur- 
ing us  this  great  happiness,  and  for  which, 
we  assure  you,  you  have  our  deep  grati- 
tude." 

I  replied  expressive  of  the  liappiness  I  felt 
in  having  thus  unconsciously  contributed  to 
the  happiness  of  so  loving  a  family,  and  in 
the  restoration  of  one  so  worthy  of  life. 
It  added  a  new  tie  to  the  business  I  had 
chosen,  and  I  trusted  that  it  might  be  the 
means  of  enlarging  the  amount  of  human  hap- 
piness. I  trembled  when  I  thought  how 
nearly  an  unfaithful  messenger  had  plunged 
an  amiable  circle  into  sorrows  Avhich  mio-ht 
have  robbed  it  of  its  chief  charms,  and  left  it 
desolate. 

After  a  pleasant  supper  and  a  delightful 
hour  spent  with  this  affectionate  family,  to 
whom  I  had  become  thus  singularly  attached, 
we  bade  them,  amid  many  kind  words,  and  a 
cordial  invitation  to  call  again,  a  kind  fare- 
■\vell,  and  retired  to  our  apartments  to  dream 
over  the  telegraph  in  its  new  vocation  as  the 
restorer  to  life  of  sweet  Mary  Mornington. 


''  'Tis  Better  to  have  Loved  and  Lost." 


Sucn  a  sweet,  little  darling  she  was.  Those  large 
lustrous  eyes,  and  that  beautiful  golden  liair  were 
fast  laying  their  weight  on  my  susceptible  heart, 
and  when  she  stepped  up  to  the  counter  and 
"  desired  to  send  a  telegram"  I  swallowed  a  nickel's 
worth  of  masticated  cavendish,  fell  over  the  mes- 
sage boy's  three  legged  stool,  and — handed  her  a 
blank.  It  was  only  a  few  words  to  her  friend  at 
Beeville,  "  Am  tired.  Will  be  there  to  night."  Oh ! 
that  such  an  angel  should  suffer  and  be  tired.  It 
was  too  bad,  but — "How  much  is  it?"  recalled  mc 
to  earth.  "  Forty  cents,"  I  muttered,  with  a  dim 
idea  that  filthy  lucre  was  out  of  place  in  connection 
with  this  innocent,  artless  being.  "  The  telegraph 
is  a  wonderful  thing,"  she  said,  "  I  should  like  so 
much  to  see  it  work,"  and,  transported  to  the  sev- 
enth heaven  at  the  opportunity  to  form  her  acquain- 
tance, I  offered  to  initiate  her  as  far  as  possible  into 
the  mysteries  of  the  art.  Everything  was  so 
strange,  so  new  to  her.  It  was  beyond  her  com- 
prehension, and /our  wires!  How  could  a  person 
look  after  so  many  !    I  explained  it  all,  the  use  of 


each  key,  each  button,  each  wire,  and  when  with  a 
fond,  grateful  look  she  withdrew  to  the  passengers' 
waiting  room,  I  felt  that  I  had  conquered,  made  a 
deep  impression,  and  touched  the  secret  spring  of 
her  heart. 

I  was  brushing  the  soil  from  my  No.  lO's  pre- 
paratory to  asking  her  address  and  permission 
to  call,  when  one  of  the  boys  came  in.  "  Has 
that  girl  been  talking  to  you  ?  "  "  She  has,"  I 
replied,  with  dignity.  "  What  about  ?  "  I  told  him. 
He  rolled  over,  and  for  five  minutes  I  supposed 
him  crazy.  Then  I  could  understand  amid  his 
peals  of  laughter,  "  Why,  you  blamed  fool !  That's 
Mrs.  D's  cousin.  She's  an  old  telegrapher  from 
down  east."  In  the  agony  of  the  next  half  hour  I 
received  the  following  :  "  Sulphur  Springs,  13th,  to 
J.  B.  Dellwood,  Cherokee.  The  odor  smothers 
health.  Improving  none.  Water  rising,  (signed) 
Jim."  Mr.  Dellwood  wanted  a  better  version,  and 
I  tried  it  again.  It  came,  "  Theodore's  mother's 
health  improving.  No  new  arrivals,  [signed]  Jim  " 
Frailty  thy  name  is  woman. 


THE  SONG  OF  TEE  PLUG. 


39 


Of  all  the  freaks  of  the  telegraph,  the  following 
is  one  of  the  most  laughable.  A  young  man.  when 
about  to  start  for  his  new  parish,  was  unexpectetUy 
detained  by  the  incapacity  of  his  Presbytery  to  or- 
dain him.  In  order  to  explain  his  non-aiTival  at 
the  appointed  time,  he  sent  the  following  telegram 
to  the  deacons  of  the  church  : 
"  Presbytery  lack  a  quorum  to  ordain." 
la  the  course  of   its   journey  the  message  got 


strangely  metamorphosed,  and  reached  the  as- 
tonished deacons  in  this  shape  : 
"  Presbytery  tacked  a  worm  on  to  Adam." 
The  sober  church  officers  were  sorely  discom- 
posed and  mystified,  but,  after  grave  consultation, 
concluded  that  it  was  the  minister's  facetious  way 
of  announcing  that  he  had  got  married,  and  accord- 
ingly proceeded  to  provide  lodgings  for  two  instead 
of  one. 


The  Song  of  the  Plug, 


With  thumb  and  fore-finger  worn, 

With  expression  of  infernal  glee, 
A  country  plug  sat  in  his  place  of  toil 

Plying  his  dare  deviltry. 
Break !  break !  break ! 

As  contented  as  cats  on  the  rug. 
And,  still  on  a  key  of  excellent  make, 

He  warbled  the  song  of  the  plug. 

Break !  break  !  break ! 

While  experts  grow  mad  and  profane. 
Break !  break  !  break ! 

Till  they  think  I'm  a  terrible  bane. 
Blaspheme  and  abuse  me  and  swear, 

Swear  at,  abuse  me,  blaspheme, 
Till  they're  forced  to  refrain  since  no  words 
remain. 

To  build  dams  for  profanity's  stream.    . 

Oh,  plugs !  this  vast  country  o'er ! 

Fellow  fiends  of  a  calling  so  dire  ! 
It  is  uot  your  fingers  you're  wearing  out. 

But  the  patience  of  kings  of  the  wire. 
Break !  break  !  break  ! 

As  contented  as  puss  on  the  rug. 
Breaking  on  duplex  and  single  strings  too — 

On  all  kinds  considered  a  "  bug." 

Break  !  break !  break ! 

My  toil  seems  never  to  cease.  * 

And  what  are  its  wages  ? — a  cushioned  chair 

And  a  post  of  endless  lease. 
This  best  of  wires,  that  longest  trick. 

And  favors  so  many  and  great, 
That  my  written  thanks  would  fill  all  the  blanks 

The  printers  could  ever  create. 

Break!  break!  break! 

They  often  wish  me  dead. 
And  schemes  devise  to  extirpate 

All  plugs  that  o'er  earth  are  spread ! 


But  'tis  vain  to  speak  of  death. 

We  never,  never  die. 
'Tis  merely  a  waste  of  experts'  breath. 

They  must  only  endure  us  and  sigh. 

Oh  !  but  to  break  on  a  wire 

Where  rushists  are  happy  and  glad ! 
On  a  circuit  so  easy  to  break. 

Where  experts  so  lightly  get  mad. 
For  only  one  short  mouth 

To  break  as  I  used  to  break. 
Before  my  fingers  were  stiff  and  old. 

And  my  break-thirst  so  easy  to  slake. 

Oh  !  but  for  one  short  month — 

A  month  however  short ! — 
(E'en  February  would  suit  me  well,) 

To  increase  my  wicked  sport. 
A  little  practice  would  serve  me  much. 

But  to  get  it  my  work  would  flag ; 
And  I  could  not  provoke  the  expert  folk-  • 

No,  I  can  not  and  will  not  lag ! 

You  may  swear  and  howl  and  shout, 

You  may  shout  and  howl  and  swear. 
But  my  tribe  will  live  and  thrive  and  grow. 

(Ah  !  I  see  you  with  horror  stare !) 
We  shall  live  to  ever  afflict. 

We  shall  thrive  to  perpetuate  breaks. 
We  shall  grow — increase ;  you  shall  have  no 
peace. 

Until  Gabriel's  trump  the  world  awakes. 

With  thumb  and  fore-finger  worn. 

With  a  look  of  infernal  glee, 
A  fiendish  plug  sat  in  his  place  of  toil 

Plying  his  dare  deviltry. 
Break!  break!  break! 

When  currents  are  weak  and  when  strong, 
And  still  in  a  style  that  never  knew  Morse- 
Would  it  might  know  a  healthy  remorse — 

He  merrily  warbled  his  song. 


40 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


Joseph  Christie  {Werner) 


Was  born  in  ]\Iancliestcr,  England,  but  came  to  the 
United  States  while  yet  young,  making  Philadelphia 
his  home.  During  1869,  '70,  '71  he  was  in  Utah, 
"Wyoming,  and  California.  In  the  latter  part  of  1871 
he  visited  South  America,  returning  ere  long  to  the 
United  States  via  the  West  Indies.  Until  within 
the  past  year  Mr.  Christie  has  been  an  attache  of 
the  Western  Union  Telegraph  Company's  Philadel- 
phia ofSce,  filling  various  positions,  in  all  of  which 
he  served  with  honor  to  himself  and  advantage  to 
his  employers.  At  present  he  is  one  of  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Associated  Press  in  Philadelphia, 
and  apparently  a  rising  man.  Mr.  Christie  is  best 
known  to  his  immediate  associates  as  an  operator 
of  unusual  expertness  and  finish  ;  to  the  remainder 
of  the  profession  he  is  best  known  as  the  author  of 
the  contributions  to  The  Operator  variously  signed 
"  Junius,"  "  Beppo,"  "  Werner."  His  writings  are 
perhaps  the  best,  viewed  in  a  purely  literary  light, 
that  have  yet  been  ofiered  by  a  telegrapher  for  the 
entertainment  of  telegraphers.  Possessing  tlie  rare 
faculty  of  perceiving  humor  wherever  it  exists, 
kind-hearted,  sympathetic,  and  keenly  appreciative 
of  worth  in  others,  Mr.  Christie  has  a  vein  of  satire 
withal  which  has  many  times  and  oft  stood  him  in 


good  stead.  The  unrelenting  enemy  of  all  petty 
abuses  and  tyrannies  calculated  to  demoralize  or 
degrade  his  brethren,  he  has  repeatedly  subjected 
such  abuses  and  tyrannies  to  a  round  of  ridicule 
at  once  scathing  and  polished,  which  generally  re- 
sulted in  an  amelioration  of  the  evil,  while  those 
who  had  been  at  fault  were  left  as  much  in  the  dark 
as  to  how  and  when  they  received  their  hurt  as  the 
Persian  soldier  of  tradition  beheaded  with  the  magic 
scimeter  without  knowing  it.  While  Mr.  Christie, 
therefore,  has  all  along  disavowed  any  particular 
ability  as  a  writer,  it  must  be  conceded  that  he 
stands  in  the  foremost  rank  among  those  of  his  kind. 
He  is,  moreover,  a  very  expert  draughtsman,  a  cari- 
caturist of  much  cleverness,  and,  better  than  all,  a 
painter,  who  gives  promise  of  future  distinction. 
Added  to  all  these  accomplishments,  Mr.  Christie 
possesses  charms  of  mind  and  a  sterling  worth  of 
character  which  he  does  not  proclaim  from  the 
housetop,  but  which  a  long  and  intimate  acquaint- 
ance surely  reveals,  while  his  familiarity  with 
books,  with  political  and  social  methods,  and 
the  higher  arts  stamps  him  as  a  man  of  studious  in- 
stincts, with  an  inherent  taste  for  everything  which 
is  good,  noble,  and  elevating. 


Wives  for  Two;  or,  Joe's  Little  Joke, 


Yes,  those  were  halcyon  clays  when  we 
worked  old  "  One  East,"  Joe  and  I,  and  jolly 
times  we  had  of  it — even  if  the  hours  were 
longer  and  the  pay  less  than  now — and  if 
it  were  not  for  a  knowledge  of  the  uselessness 
of  such  a  wish  I  should  often  be  tempted  to 
long  for  the  old  days  back  again.  Just 
think  of  it,  boys !  There,  from  Boston  to 
Calais,  were  Lynn,  Salem,  Newburyport, 
Portsmouth,  and  Portand  ;  then  Bath,  Dam- 
ariscotta,  Rockland,  Belfast,  and  Bangor — 
the  important  points — with  a  host  of  smaller 
towns  between,  and  all  on  one  wire,  where 
we  worked  as  quiety  and  contentedly  as  a 
veritable  "  happy  family,"  only  barring  an 
occasional  breeze  between  rival  offices  who 
each  thouijht  their  claim  to  the  circuit  of 
paramount  importance,  which  served  to  give 
spice  to  life,  clear  the  horizon,  and  impress 
us — after  the  return  of  the  accustomed 
calm — with  the  amount  of  solid  comfort  we 
were  enjoying ! 

Well,  I  suppose  that  by  this  time  things 
have  changed,  and  probably  even  Damaris- 
cotta  revels  in  the  magnificence  of  its  im- 
portance over  half  a  dozen  or  more  wires; 
but  I  doubt  if  there  is  more  real  business 
done  than  that  poor  old  "  Maine  "  line  used 
to  stand  without  breaking.     In  the  winter  it 
was  ice  orders  for  the  Kennebec,  and  reports 
of  the  depth  of  snow  from  Bangor.     In  sum- 
mer all  the  coastwise  towns  and  cities  woke 
up  to  attend  to  their  shipping,  and  long  and 
bothersome  charter  messages  kept  the  long 
hours  busy,  and  the  wire  fairly  overflowed 
with  Avork;  and   then,  all    the  year  round, 
whenever  an  ocean  steamer  arrived  at  Halifax 
or  St.  Johns,  every  office  was  closed  to  cus- 
tomers, no  matter  how  urgent  their  business 
might  be,  and  the  Avire  given  up  to  foreign 
news,  which  went  pounding  along  hour  after 
hour,  cipher,  parliamentary,  and  government, 
till  the  long  budget  was  exhausted,  and  we 
had  a  chance  at  ordinary  work   again;    for 
that  was   long  before   the    cable  was    laid, 
you  knoAV,  and  everything  had  to  give  way 


before    foreign    news,    no    matter    what    it 
might   be,  and  woe   to   him   who  broke  or 
grounded  on  "  steamer  day !  "    But  the  long 
winter  evenings,  those  were  the  times  when 
one   and   all   took   solid  comfort,  and    they 
are  what    I   regret   the   most  after   all  this 
change    that    time  has    brought.     You  see 
business   slackened    up    at    about    six,   and 
then,  till  "G  N."  at  eight,  the  wire  was  given 
up    to   what   you    young   chaps    now  term 
"buzzing;"   the  word  would  have  been  very 
applicable   then,  moreover,  as  it   was  more 
like  a  hive  of  bees  than  anything  else,  and 
the  amount   of  good-natured   fun   and  ban- 
ter that  passed  between  us,  not  to  mention 
more  serious  and  even  "  spooney  "  talk — but 
of    that   more   anon — was  a  caution  to  out- 
siders !     Two  of  the  girls  would  start  it,  per- 
haps, with  talk  of  dress  and  furbelows,  sly 
hints  at  village  beaux  and  gentle  rivalry,  then 
Joe,  who  was  always  on  the  alert  for  such 
chances,  would  snatch  the  circuit  from  one  of 
the  fair  ones,  and  send  a  different  and  per- 
haps startling  answer  to  the  last  question. 
A  moment's  silence,  and  after  it  a  bit  of  sharp 
repartee  or  banter,  and  in  a  few  seconds  more 
all  hands  would  join  in  the  fun  and  keep  it  up 
till  Boston  gave  "  good-night,"  and  one  by 
one  we  dropped  out  and  left  the  line  to  the 
owls  for  report. 

Practical  jokes  were  not  few,  and  many 
were  so  good,  and  withal  so  innocent  and 
harmless,  as  to  bind  us  more  closely  together, 
rather  than  make  ruptures  in  the  "happy 
family ; "  and  whether  he  deserved  it  all  or 
not,  Joe  usually  had  the  credit  of  most  of 
them.  Poor  Joe !  he  is  laid  away  beyond 
the  reach  of  sounders  or  even  error-sheets 
now.  And  if  some  of  his  fun  did  occasionally 
hit  harder  than  he  intended,  I  hope  there  is 
no  malice  laid  up  against  his  account  by  any 
of  the  "  victims."  You  remember  Peabody  ? 
'■'■Little  Fred"  Peabody  we  used  to  call  him; 
good  fellow,  good  operator,  and  one  of  your 
"  copperplates  "  on  his  copy ;  "  graduated  " 
now  into  the  dry  goods  trade,  or  somethins: 


42 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


equally  prosaic.  I  don't  know  just  what  or 
Avherc  he  is,  but  he  has  disappeared  from  the 
ranks  for  many  a  year,  and  been  gradually  lost 
sight  of  by  his  old  friends.  Well,  he  got  it 
pretty  badly  one  night,  and  forever  after  re- 
fused to  join  in  a  "  buzz." 

You  see,  he  had  just  one  weak  spot,  and 
we  knew  it.  He  would  always  "  spoon  "  on 
every  new  girl  he  met,  and  used  to  count  his 
conquests  by  the  score. 

"Well,  one  night,  when  work  was  slack,  we 
lieard  Fred  call  Portland — the  wire  was  cut, 
you  know,  and  Fred  had  a  new  flame  in 
Portsmouth  under  cultivation — and  ask  for 
the  rest  of  the  wire.  Soon  we  heard  it  cut 
on  again,  and  after  the  end  of  a  Boston  mes- 
saf^e  Fred  goes  for  Portsmouth  and  starts  a 
lively  confab  on  his  own  account. 

By-and-bye  she  remarks  :  "  By  the  way, 
Mr.  Peabody,  I  have  a  new  student — Miss 
Stone — whom  I  would  be  glad  to  introduce 
to  you."  "  Delighted,  I'm  sure,"  says  Fred. 
And  then  the  introduction  followed,  and  the 
student  took  the  key  and  made  a  flutter- 
ing attempt  at  some  pretty  speech  which  she 
managed  to  make  plain  enough  for  us  to 
decipher. 

Then  Fred  began:  "Miss  Stone,  I  am 
chai-med,  I  assure  you.  Allow  me  to  — " 
congratulate  you  on  your  proficiency,  he  was 
probably  going  to  say  had  not  Joe  stepped 
in  from  his  office  between  them,  and,  mimick- 
ing Fred's  style  to  perfection,  completed  the 
sentence  with —  "  hug  you  and  kiss  you  the 
next  time  I  come  down."  Well,  boys,  you 
should  have  heard  the  roar  of  laughter  that 
Avcnt  up  in  our  office,  at  least,  and  seen 
Fred's  face  as  he  gradually  realized  the  sell. 
But  on  the  wire  all  was  as  still  as  the 
crave,  and  although  others  no  doubt  saw 
the  joke,  no  one  broke  the  spell,  and  Fred's 
buzz  was  for  once  and  for  all  completely 
spoiled.  He  would  have  given  his  boots  to 
know  who  did  the  trick,  but  he  never  dis- 
covered, and  she,  the  fair  student,  no  doubt 
thinks  to  this  day — that  is,  if  she  survived 
the  shock  at  all  —  that  Mr.  Peabody  at 
least  had  a  novel  and  original  way  of  begin- 


ning  an   acquaintance,  and   probably  never 
accused  him  of  bashfulness  ! 

But  that's  not  what  I  was  asked  for,  I 
know,  and  if  you  Avon't  let  me  have  any 
peace  till  I  tell  you  how  I  got  Dolly,  and  Dolly 
got  me,  I  suppose  I  must  make  a  clean  breast 
of  it. 

Well,  then,  here  it  is  :  Joe  and  I  were  in 
Rockland  then,  keeping  the  post-office  and 
working  the  wire  between  ns,  and  chumming 
together  as  comfortably  as  could  be,  until 
what  should  we  do  but  both  fall  in  love 
with  the  same  girl,  like  the  pair  of  fools  that 
we  were.  She  was  the  student  at  Damaris- 
cotta,  Dolly  Vaughan  by  name,  and  al- 
though we  had  neither  of  us  seen  her,  those 
long  evening  chats  over  the  wire  had  done 
the  business  for  me  before  I  knew  it,  and  at 
last,  as  I  came  in  one  evening  and  caught  Joe 
in  the  midst  of  an  earnest  talk  with  her,  and 
saw  the  smile  on  his  face  and  the  flash  in  his 
eyes,  it  came  over  me  all  at  once  that  he  was 
caught  too,  and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I 
almost  hated  him.  I  couldn't  stand  it,  and 
out  I  went  again  into  the  open  air  to  smoke 
away  frantically,  curse  my  unlucky  stars — 
for  Joe  and  I  had  been  so  long  good  friends 
that  I  wouldn't  stand  in  his  way — and  finally 
M'cnt  off"  and  locked  myself  in  my  room,  to 
lie  awake  half  the  night  thinking  of  Joe  and 
his  happiness,  and  trying  to  tear  out  the  fair 
image  that  I  had  pictured  to  myself,  and  had 
just  discovered  was  grown  dearer  to  me  than 
I  had  begun  to  suspect.  Well,  the  nest  day 
we  both  were  rather  quiet 'and  solemn, 
though  Joe  did  burst  out  occasionally  in 
one  of  his  merry  whistles,  and  at  "  Good- 
night" I  was  just  reaching  for  my  hat  and 
coat  to  leave  him  alone  for  his  chat,  when 
what  does  ho  do  but  seize  his  before  I  could 
say  a  word,  and  disappear  with  only  "  Good- 
by,  old  boy ;  engagement  up-town,"  as 
the  door  slammed  behind  him.  What  could 
it  mean  ?  Well,  I  didn't  stop  to  wonder  long, 
for  the  temptation  for  just  one  more  chat 
was  too  strong  to  be  resisted,  and  down  I 
sat  and  called  Dolly,  and  soon  w^e  were  in 
the  midst  of  our  talk,  all  the  rest  having  cut 


WIVES  FOR   TWO;  OR,  JOBPS  LITTLE  JOKE. 


43 


out  and  left  for  home.  Bat  somehow  Dolly's 
■writing  seemed  changed  to  me — more  easy 
and  distinct.  In  fact,  almost  like  that  of 
Miss  Warren,  the  regular  operator.  But 
that  was  out  of  the  question,  for  she  and  I 
never  could  agree  on  anything;  in  fact,  I 
didn't  like  Miss  Warren  at  all,  and  the  idea 
of  her  waiting  so  late  to  chat  with  me  was 
utterly  absurd.  So  that  notion  was  soon 
dismissed,  and,  only  casually  complimenting 
Dolly  on  her  improvement,  I  laid  myself  out 
to  be  agreeable,  and  spent  one  of  the  joiliest 
evenings  of  my  life.  She  talked  more  freely 
about  herself  than  ever,  and  gave  me  so 
many  new  insights  into  her  character,  her 
tastes  and  accomplishments,  that  before  the 
evening  was  over  I  had  decided  that  Joe 
shouldn't  have  her  if  I  could  prevent — no 
matter  Avhat  the  consequences  might  be. 

Well,  after  that  I  got  a  few  cups  of  main 
battery  to  use  nights,  and  put  in  an  extra  relay 
on  the  desk,  so  that  we  could  both  "  ground  " 
and  have  a  circuit  of  our  own  when  we 
wished  and  still  be  able  to  connect  it 
through  whenever  we  heard  a  call  on  either 
side,  and  every  night  we  would  stay  and  talk 
without  any  of  the  others  being  the  wiser. 
Joe  fortunately  took  to  billiards  about  that 
time,  or  something  or  other  that  kept  him 
away  in  the  evenings,  and  I  had  it  all  my 
own  way,  sometimes  wondering  at  his  sudden 
change,  but  thinking — if  I  thought  of  it  at  all 
— that  what  I  had  taken  for  a  discovery  of 
his  love,  must  have  been  only  a  creation  of 
ray  own  jealous  fancy.  Well,  it  wasn't  long 
before  I  determined  to  see  for  myself  if  my 
fair  one  wei'e  all  that  my  fancy  painted  her; 
and,  after  arranging  it  with  Joe  to  run  the 
office  for  a  day,  I  got  myself  up  gorgeously, 
and  drove  down  on  one  of  the  most  charming 
spring  days  I  ever  enjoyed.  By  following 
the  wirps  I  easily  found  the  office,  and  there, 
among  window-gardens  and  hanging  plants, 
a  perfect  bower  of  greeneries,  and  all  the  odds 
and  ends  of  pretty  things  with  which  women 
know  so  well  how  to  transform  a  room,  if 
they  only  make  up  their  minds  to  show 
their  tastes — in  fact,  just  the  reverse  of  our 


own   dingy   and     ink-bespattered    office     at 
home — sat  the  object  of  my  dreams. 

I  was  received  by  two  of  the  prettiest  girls 
I  ever  gazed  upon,  and  soon  made  myself  at 
home  within  the  railing  which  shut  out  the 
common  crowd  of  customers  and  messengers. 
Of  course,  it  was  a  little  awkward  at  first, 
and  Miss  Warren  struck  me  as  somewhat  cool 
and  reserved,  although  friendly  and  polite 
enough ;  but  that  wore  oif  in  time,  and  after 
awhile  she  left  us  together,  Dolly  and  I,  mak- 
ing an  excuse  of  "  errands  up  town,"  and 
graciously  accepting  my  offer  to  serve  as  op- 
erator during  her  absence,  which  I  inwardly 
prayed  might  be  a  long  one. 

Well,  I  made  good  use  of  my  time,  I  assure 
you ;  spent  the  day,  took  Dolly  to  drive  in 
the  evening,  and  finally  returned  through  the 
gray  morning  to  Belfast,  with  my  head  and 
heart  in  a  whirl  of  the  thoughts  and  aspira- 
tions which  crowd  the  brain  of  an  engaged 
man !  Yes,  I  had  done  it ;  for  one  day  of  her 
company  had  been  enough  to  complete  what 
those  months  of  wire  conversations  had  begun, 
and  the  result  had  been  what  I  had  been 
longing  for  even  more  than  I  knew  myself. 
Well,  Joe  took  the  news  coolly  enough,  I 
thought,  but  was  hearty  in  his  congratula- 
tions nevertheless,  and  for  the  next  few 
months  everything  went  smoothly  with  us 
all,  each  of  us  taking  occasional  trips  of  a 
day  or  two — mine,  of  course,  being  to  Damar- 
iscotta,  and  his — well,  he  never  volunteered 
the  information,  and  I  never  asked  him, 
though  I  was  pretty  sure  there  was  a  "  wo- 
man in  tke  case  "  from  his  elaborate  prepar- 
ations.   So  I  never  knew  till  my  wedding  day. 

That  came  at  last  in  the  following  fall. 
You  see,  Joe  and  I  had  gone  into  partnership 
and  bought  out  the  store  next  the  post-office, 
and  had  three  strings  to  our  bow ;  and  when 
I  was  assured  of  a  good  prospect  for  the 
future,  as  far  as  business  was  concerned,  I 
hurried  up  Dolly's  preparations,  and  at  last, 
one  bright  October  day,  leaving  the  office  in 
charge  of  a  sub  and  the  store  to  the  clerks, 
Joe  and  I  drove  down  to  Damariscotta,  and 
in  a  quiet  little  church,  with  only  himself  as 


14 


LIGETNING  FLASHES. 


groomsman  and  Miss  "Warren  as  bridesmaid, 
wo  were  married  at  last ;  and  right  there  was 
where  the  cream  of  the  joke  came  in.  For 
after  the  ceremony,  and  just  as  we  were 
about  to  pass  on  into  the  vestry  and  sign  the 
book,  what  does  Joe  do  but  coolly  remark 
that  we  "  weren't  quite  through  yet,"  and, 
stepping  up  before  the  altar,  taking  Miss 
AVarrcn's  hand,  lie  goes  right  through  the 
ceremony  like  a  man,  without  half  the  blun- 
ders I  had  made  after  all  my  rehearsing, 
while  I  stood  by  with  my  bride  on  my  arm, 
utterly  speechless  with  astonishment.  Well, 
I  came  to  at  last,  and  such  a  scene  as  there 
was,  with  the  congratulations,  kissings,  and 
hand-shakings,  I  hope  I  may  never  forget  to 
my  dying  day.  Then  we  went  to  the  vestry 
and  entered  our  names,  and  just  as  I  turned 
away  toward  the  carriage,  I  glanced  again 
at  the  register  and  stood  spellbound ;  for 
there,  in  plain  black  and  white,  stood  the 
record — my  name  in  a  rather  shaky  hand, 
below  it  "  Mabel  Warren ! "  and  next,  in 
bold,  strong,  flowing  characters,  "  Joseph 
Sargent "  and  "  Dora  Vaughan."  At  first, 
of  course,  I  thought  it  a  mistake,  but  one 
glance  at  Joe  was  enough,  as  he  stood  cram- 


ming his  handkerchief  into  his  mouth  to  keep 
from  roaring,  and  like  a  flash  it  all  came  over 
me  as  plain  as  day.  He  had  sold  me  com. 
pletely,  and  for  life !  It  was  all  simple 
enough.  Ho  had  seen  Dolly  before  I  did, 
and  when  he  found  I  was  interested,  had  got 
the  girls  to  change  names  as  far  as  I  was  con- 
cerned, and,  as  they  were  alone  in  the  office, 
and  were  both  orphans  and  without  relations 
in  their  town,  there  was  no  one  to  expose 
them.  They  did  it  at  first  by  way  of  a  joke 
and  then  got  frightened  and  didn't  dare  con- 
fess to  me,  and  so  I  had  actually  fallen  in 
love  and  married  the  manager  after  all, 
while  Joe  had  secured  his  point  and  his 
"  Dolly." 

But  of  course  I  forgave  him,  and  though 
my  Avife  is  still — as  she  always  has  been — 
"  Dolly  "  to  me,  it  was  the  girl  that  I  loved, 
and  not  the  name,  and  every  year  that  has 
been  added  to  our  happy,  quiet  life,  has  only 
brouGfht  me  more  cause  for  thankfulness  for 
the  subtle  exchange  of  my  youthful  passion 
from  one  "wire  acquaintance"  to  another, 
and  helped  to  teach  me  that  I  can  never  be 
sufficiently  thankful  for  the  entire  success  of 
Joe's  little  joke ! 


One  morning  in  the  spruig  of  '65  a  seedy-looking 
individual  entered  the  operating  room  of  a  certain 
large  office  in  Georgia.  He  was  tall  and  thin,  and 
wore  a  red  shirt  and  linen  duster  coat.  Ilis  shoes 
bore  evidence  of  Georgia  railroad  mud.  His  pants 
were  cut  in  "  high  water,"  and  were  at  least  six 
inches  too  short,  which  exposed  the  style  of  his 
"  foot-covering,"  and  showed  them  to  be  one  boot 
and  one  fancy  gaiter.  His  appearance  forced  one  to 
believe  that  he  had  been  "  counting  cross-ties,"  and 
his  gaunt  and  cadaverous  look  showed  that  weeks 
must  have  elapsed  since  his  stomach  was  astonished 
with  what  ho  would  have  called  a  square  meal.  He 
met  the  manager  at  the  door  and  immediately  ne- 
gotiated for  a  job,  but  didn't  specify  whether  as  a 
lineman  or  what.  When  interrogated  he  replied 
that  he  could  telegraph ;  in  fact  he  said  he  was  a 
"  first-class  "  man.  The  operators  crowded  around 
him  and  induced  the  manager  to  give  him  a  trial,  in 
the  hope  of  having  some  fun,  as  in  those  days  the 
business  was  light,  and  there  was  only  one  busy 
wire,  to  the  capital  of  the  late  lamented  Confede- 


racy. Press  came  from  there  at  the  rate  of  sixty 
words  per  minute,  abbreviated.  His  muddy  nibs  sat 
down  and  answered  press  on  this  wire,  but  showed 
no  activity  about  putting  it  down  until  he  was  fifty 
words  behind,  and  the  manager  impatient.  Then 
he  asked  for  a  pencil,  and  while  they  were  looking 
for  one  he  dove  down  into  the  pocket  of  that  old 
red  vest,  brought  out  a  stump  of  a  pencil,  and  "  bit" 
on  both  ends.  By  this  time  Richmond  was  three 
items  of  press  ahead,  and  starting  on  a  Government 
cipher.  The  manager  was  furious,  and  yelled  to  the 
man  with  the  visible  lead-pencil  to  leave  the  desk. 
But  he  calmly  asked  the  manager  if  he  preferred  the 
markets  "  deciphered"  as  he  went  along.  He  then 
asked  all  to  wait  until  he  got  a  drink  of  water  in  the 
hall.  Richmond  was  still  rattling  along  on  Govern- 
ment messages,  and  the  young  plugs  stood  around 
in  amazement  to  see  a  man  carry  so  much  in  his 
head.  Long  and  anxiously  did  they  watch  tha<; 
door,  but  he  never  returned.  His  front  name  has 
passed  from  our  memory,  but  the  last  was  Schemy 
something. 


$1,000  Il€ivard—3Iy  Foot  Mace  with  a  Telegram, 

ahead   of   us.     We   approached    cautiously, 


It  was  one  of  the  brightest  of  early  spring 
days — the  last  Sabbath  in  April.  Too  early  for 
the  first  green  foliage  of  the  new-born  season, 
but  following  closely  as  it  did  upon  the  long, 
dreary  winter  months,  the  wann  rays  of  the  sun 
were  so  tempting,  the  artificial  heat  within 
doors  so  oppressive,  that  the  temptations  for 
a  long  ramble  were  simply  irresistible. 

I  lived  on  the  border — not  exactly  the 
frontier  of  civilization,  but  just  outside  the 

limits  of  the  city  of  E ,  N.  J.     South  of 

of   me  were    the  pavements,    street   lamps, 
modern     architecture,    and   all    the   accom- 
paniments    of     city    life.        To    the   north 
stretched  the  Morris  turnpike — sparsely  set- 
tled, with  here  and  there  a  weather-beaten, 
low-roofed  farm-house,  which  may  have  been 
at  one  time  the  headquarters  either  of  Wash- 
ington or  some  of  his  subordinates.     It  is,  at 
least,  classic  ground,  for  this  was  the  direct 
route  during  the    Revolutionary  War  from 
the  American  camp  at  Morristown  to  either 
Philadelphia   or  tide-water.       A    stroll    for 
pleasure  instinctively  led   myself  and   com- 
panion in  the  direction  of  these  rural  scenes. 
First    across    the  creek  to  a    saw-mill,  the 
quaint  machinery   of  which   was   always   a 
source  of  wonderment,  not  that  its  finish  was 
remarkable,  or  its    mechanical   complication 
beyond  solution,  but  that  so  insignificant  a 
turbine  wheel  should  have  sufficient   power 
to  move  such  a  conglomerate  mass  of  eccen- 
tric gearings,  saw-dust,  bark,  and  cobwebs. 
The  details  of  our  ramble  were,  in  the  main, 
like  those  enjoyed  by  all  who  commune  with 
nature.     Leaving  behind  us  the  ancient  saw- 
mill, the  dam,  and  pond,  crossing  the  high- 
way, scaling  the  moss-covered  fence,  built  in 
"  those  good  old  days,"  we  plunged  into  the 
outskirts  of  the  woods,  and  were  soon  thread- 
ing the  underbrush  on  the  lookout  for  any- 
thing that  might  be  of  interest.     Suddenly 
my  companion   halted.     I  glanced    quickly 
ahead  in  the  direction  he  pointed,  and  was 
startled   for  the    moment   upon   seeing   the 


thinking  he  was  asleej),  but  upon  reaching 
him  we  saw  at  once  that  he  must  have  been 
dead  several  days.  Having  in  view  the  cor- 
oner's inquest,  I  noted  the  time  of  day — 
eleven  o'clock — and  with  due  regard  for  the 
requirements  of  the  law,  we  left  everything 
undisturbed  and  hastened  to  the  city  to  notify 
the  proper  authorities  of  our  discovery.  Half 
an  hour's  walk  brought  us  before  the  chief  of 
police,  to  whom  we  gave  a  brief  narrative  of 
our  morning  adventure.  He  displayed  little 
interest  in  our  story,  however,  merely  remark- 
ing that  it  was  probably  some  tramp  who 
had  strayed  out  of  his  route  and  died  in  a  fit. 
Being  out  of  the  city  limits,  he  seemed  little 
inclined  to  bother  with  the  matter  until  I  re- 
marked that  the  clothes  upon  the  body  were 
sufficient  evidence  that  the  wearer  did  not 
belong  in  the  ranks  of  the  traveling  poor. 

My  statement  was  not  without  effect.     A 
prospective  reward  seemed  to  infuse  activity 
into  the  corpulent  form  of  the  chief,  and  he 
at  once  ordered  a  carriage,  and  inviting  us  to 
join  him,  we  drove  as  near  the  spot  as  possi- 
ble, alighted,  and  were  soon  again  standmg 
around  the  unknown  corpse,  with  no  little 
curiosity  to  learn  more  particulars  than  we 
yet  knew  regarding  the  apparently  violent 
death.     The  chief,  like  most  of  his  class,  was 
a  man  of  few  words,  but  a  wise  look,  as  if 
his  waking  hours  were  spent  in  the  fabrica- 
tion of  theories.     By  virtue  of  his  office  and 
familiarity  with  scenes  of  this  kind,  he  did 
not  hesitate  to  turn  the  body  over  as  soon  as 
he  had  made  a  brief  inspection  of  the  sur- 
roundings.    The    face   was    decomposed    to 
such  an  extent  that  recognition  would  have 
been   impossible  even  had  it  not    been  the 
face   of    a  stramjer.      He  had   been  a  man 
of  medium  height,  heavily  built,  dressed  in  a 
dark  business  suit,  with  brown  spring  over- 
coat and  a  silk  hat,  which  had  fallen  from  his 
head  as  he  fell  forward,  and  lay  upon  the 
ground  six  feet  from  the  body.     Upon  his 


prostrate  form  of  a  man  perhaps  fifty  yards  J  sleeve  buttons  was  the  single  initial  "  R  "  in 


4G 


LIGHTNINO  FLASHES. 


the  old  English  letter,  ■which  was  the  only 
clue  to  his  identity  that  could  be  found  about 
his  clothing.  Underneath  the  body  was  a 
Colt's  revolver,  with  one  chamber  empty,  and 
upon  the  right  temple  of  the  victim  the  dark 
purple  spot  which  marked  the  entrance  of 
the  death  dealing  bullet. 

"Suicide,"  was  the  general  exclamation,  as 
those  developments  were  brought  to  light, 
and,  strange  to  say,  the  chief  had  no  theory 
to  bring  up  in  opposition  to  this  spontaneous 
verdict.  A  further  search  brought  to  light 
among  the  leaves  by  the  side  of  the  body 
two  dollars  and  eighty  cents  in  currency;  on 
the  other  side  a  pocket  knife,  a  night  key, 
and  a  few  other  trifles.  The  pockets  were 
turned  inside  out,  which  at  first  glance  seemed 
to  indicate  robbery  and  murder,  but  there 
was  no  other  evidence  to  support  this  view  of 
the  case,  so  it  was  the  general  impression 
that  the  man  while  sitting  at  the  foot  of  a 
tree  emptied  his  pockets  of  their  contents 
and  then  deliberately  shot  himself. 

Meantime,  the  chief  had  been  pondering 
over  a  copy  of  the  New  York  Sun,  which  he 
found  in  a  side  pocket  of  the  overcoat.  The 
jjaper  was  folded  in  such  a  manner  as  to  ex- 
pose but  a  single  column  on  the  first  page, 
which  seemed  at  once  to  throw  new  light  on 
the  mystery.     The  following  was  the  article: 

THE    mSSING   CONTRACTOR. 

"  An  advertisement  appeared  in  the  Herald 
a  few  days  since,  offering  one  thousand  dol- 
lars reward  lor  information  that  would  lead 
to  the  discovery  of  the  Avhereabouts  of  Henry 
Roliorts,  a  wealthy  contractor  residing  in 
Williamsport,  Pennsylvania.  At  the  time  of 
his  disappearance  he  was  engaged  on  a  heavy 
contract  at  Easton,  Pa.,  and  was  supposed  to 
liave  iu  his  possession  about  five  thousand 
dollars,  with  which  to  pay  the  wages  of  his 
hands  employed  on  the  job.  His  friends  can  not 
account  for  his  sudden  disappearance  except- 
ing on  the  theory  that  he  has  been  foully  dealt 
with.  He  is  a  man  of  dark  complexion,  black 
hair,  and  wears  a  heavy  moustache.  Ho  is  five 
feet  ten  inches  in  height,  and  was  dressed  in 
a  dark  business  suit  and  silk  hat.  Any  infor- 
mation regarding  him  should  be  sent  to 
Detective  Tully,  at  Police  Headquarters,  New 
York  City. 


A  flutter  ran  through  the  little  knot  of  by- 
standers, and  it  was  plain  to  be  seen  that  it 
was  the  general  impression  that  on  the  ground 
before  us  lay  the  body  of  the  missing  con- 
tractor. 

Nothing  further  remained  to  be  done  ex- 
cepting to  deliver  the  body  to  the  undertaker 
to  be  prepared  for  burial,  so  the  little   as- 
semblage broke  up.     I  nudged  my  compan- 
ion, Charlie,  and  told  him  to  walk  home  with 
me  as  I  wished  to  talk  with  him.     The  other 
people,  including  the  chief  of  police  and  the 
coroner,  rode  down  in  the   carriage.     After 
all  had  gone,  I  told  Charlie  what  I  suspected, 
and  the  plans  I  had    formed,  based  on  the 
following  line  of  reasoning  :     I  was  satisfied 
that  the  chief  intended  to  get  the  reward,  or 
a  large  share  of  it,  provided  there  was  any 
to  be  obtained.   All  the  circumstances  seemed 
to  indicate  that  the  body  was  that  of  the 
missing  contractor,  and  if  so,  we  were  clearly 
entitled  to  the  reward  of  one  thousand  dol- 
lai'S.     The  person  who  is  first  to  give  this  in- 
formation to  Detective  Tully  will  claim  the 
money.     Certainly  none  can  show  a  better 
title  than  ourselves,  but  we  must  be  quick,  as 
the   chief  is   wide-awake.       It   is   now   one 
o'clock.     The  last  train  for  New  York  left  at 
twelve.     The  telegraph    oflice   will   not   be 
open  until  five  o'clock.     If  the  chief  sends  a 
telegram  at  that  hour  it  will  not  reach  police 
headquarters  much  before  six  o'clock.     I  pro- 
pose that  we  foot  it  to  New  York.     It  is  thir- 
teen miles  to  Jersey  City.     We  can  do  that 
in    four    hours,  and    if    we    are   prompt  in 
starting  we  shall  liave  an  hour  left  in  which 
to  reach  headquarters    on   Mulberry  Street, 
with  a  fair  chance  of  being  ahead  of  the  tele- 
gram.    As   I    was   older  than   Charlie,  and 
well  versed  in  all  the  details  of  my  proposed 
plan,   he    did    not   hesitate   to    indorse    it, 
especially  as  there  was  a  prospect  of  securing 
a   good   sum   of    money   if  we   Avere   quick 
enough. 

Stopping  at  our  homes  only  a  sufficient 
time  to  partake  of  a  hasty  lunch,  and  apprise 
our  friends  of  om*  probable  absence  for  the 
night,   we  started  "on    our   journey.      We 


1,000  ej:wabd—mt  foot  race  with  a  telegram. 


47 


thought  it  possible  that  we  raiglit  connect  with 
a  stacre  at  Newark,  which  makes  occasional 
trips  to  Jersey  City  on  Sunday,  and  this 
would  shorten  our  walk  by  seven  miles.  In 
this  we  were  disappointed,  however,  and  the 
only  lift  we  secured  was  a  ride  on  a  horse 
car  througli  Newark,  a  distance  of  about  two 
miles.  We  reached  Jersey  City  at  about  five 
o'clock,  as  I  had  calculated,  and  after  a  few 
minutes'  detention  at  the  ferry,  crossed  tlie 
North  River,  and  at  half-past  five  started  from 
the  New  York  side,  making  the  best  time  we 
could  to  the  Mulberry  Street  police  station. 
Upon  entering  the  building  we  were  directed 
to  the  detectives'  room,  where  we  inquired 
for  Mr.  Tally.  The  officer  in  charge  replied 
that  he  was  not  in,  but  gave  us  his  address 
on  Ninth  Street.  We  were  about  conversing 
in  regard  to  our  business  when  a  Western 
Union  Telegraph  messenger  entered  the  room, 
and  as  he  stepped  up  to  the  the  desk  and 
openedhisbooklglancedhastily  at  the  address 
of  the  dispatch  he  was  about  to  deliver,  and 
read  the  name  "  Detective  Tully."  I  darted 
quickly  through  the  door,  followed  closely  by 
my  companion,  and  as  we  reached  the  street 
I  told  him  we  had  no  time  to  lose,  that  the 
message  just  brought  in  was  for  Mr.  Tully, 
and  the  boy  would  be  directed  to  his  house. 
Our  only  chance  was  a  foot  race  to  his  resi- 
dence, and  as  we  had  a  good  start,  I  thought 
we  might  beat  the  messenger,  he  being  one 
of  a  class  who,  although  very  nimble  walk- 
ers, seldom  break  into  a  run.  We  reached 
the  house  in  good  time,  found  Mr.  Tully  at 
home  and  at  leisure.  He  received  us  very 
pleasantly,  and  listened  patiently  to  our  story. 
He  seemed  to  relish  our  distancing  the  chief, 
and  said  that  if  we  were  on  the  right  track  we 
were  entitled  to  the  reward.  He  showed  us 
a  photograph  of  the  missing  contractor,  but 
we  could  not  determine  Avh ether  it  Ijore  any 
resemblance  to  the  corpse  in  the  woods.  Sud- 
denly our  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a 
ring  at  the  door  bell.  Mr.  Tully  answered 
it,  and  returned  with  the  telegram  in  his 
hand. 

"  You  were  just  in  time,  gentleman,  here  is 


the  dispatch  from  your  chief  of  police,"  and 
he  handed  it  to  me  for  my  information.  I 
read  as  follows : 

"  E ,  Atkil  29th. 

^'Detective  Tully,  Police  Headquarters  : 

"  Body  found  in  woods  to-day.  Think  it 
is  missing  man,  Roberts,  you  advertise ;  come 
and  identify.  John  Keno, 

"16  paid.  Chief  of  Police. 

We  enjoyed  a  hearty  laugh  at  his  expense, 
and  leaving  our  new  friend  apparently  imbued 
with  profound  admiration  of  our  enterprise, 
we  started  on  the  return  trip,  doubting  the 
possibility  of  reaching  home  before  break- 
fast the  next  morning,  but  highly  elated  with 
the  successof  our  journey,  and  the  correspond- 
ing discomfiture  of  the  chief.  On  our  way 
to  the  ferry  we  made  arrangements  as  to  the 
division  of  our  prospective  reward  and  its  per- 
manent investment.  Inquiries  at  respective 
offices  of  the  Pennsylvania  and  Central  Rail- 
roads seemed  to  banish  all  hope  of  our  leaving 
the  city  before  morning.  Having  been  recent- 
ly employed  on  the  Central  Railroad,  however, 
I  remembered  that  there  was  a  milk  train 
which  ran  down  Sunday  night,  and  returned 
from  Jersey  City  as  a  fast  freight  with  a 
passenger  car  attached.  This  train  was 
largely  patronized  by  deadheads  —  mostly 
railroad  men  returning  to  their  posts  of  duty 
after  a  Sunday's  absence.  Although  not  sup- 
posed to  stop  at  E ,  I  concluded  to  take 

the  risk,  so  we  waited  at  the  ferry  gate  un- 
til the  arrival  of  the  boat  from  the  milk 
train,  and  returned  with  it  to  Jersey  City. 
My  whole  plan  seemed  to  have  been  especial- 
ly favored,  as  -vve  not  only  secured  our  pas- 
sage, but  my  face  was  recognized  as  a  title 
to  a  free  trip. 

The  car  we  had  entered  was  pretty  well 
filled  with  passengers,  the  majority  of  them 
being  railroad  men,  with  many  of  whom  I  was 
acquainted.  Our  conversation  drifted  to 
railroad  matters,  and  it  would  have  been  evi- 
dent to  any  listener,  judging  from  the  criti- 
cisms exchanged,  that  we  were  thoroughly 
posted  on  all  the  details  of  the  road  and  its 
management.    One  of  the  passengers,  wishing 


48 


LIOIITNINO   FLASHES. 


to  avail  himself  of  the  opportunity  to  acquire 
information,  casually  inquired  if  that  train 
ran  througli  to  Easton,  and  if  it  made  a  close 
connection  with  tlic  morning  train  for 
"Williamsport.  He  seemed  rather  disappoint- 
ed on  learning  that  he  would  be  obliged  to 
wait  three  liours  at  Easton.  My  thoughts 
being  occupied  with  the  adventures  of  the 
day,  I  could  not  refrain  from  asking  him  if  he 
lived  in  AVilliurasport.  lie  replied  that  he 
did,  that  being  his  native  place. 

"  Do  you  know  of  a  man  named  Roberts?  " 

"  There  are  several  of  that  name  in  Wil- 
liamsport. I  am  personally  acquainted  with 
some  of  them." 

"  The  gentleman  I  refer  to  is  a  contractor." 
I  intended  to  say  more,  but  a  sudden  change 
flashed  over  the  countenance  of  my  fellow 
passenger,  and  on  the  instant  my  thoughts 
reverted  to  the  description  of  the  missing 
contractor  and  the  strange  circumstances 
that  had  welded  it  to  my  memory. 

There  was  no  reason  for  my  supposing  that 
this  was  the  man  Roberts,  although  the 
description  seemed  to  fit  him  in  every  partic- 
ular. So,  too,  it  agreed  with  the  corpse  in  the 
woods.  When  we  can  almost  grasp  a  long 
sought  object,  be  it  Avealth,  honor,  or  posi- 
tion, the  attainment  of  which  has  long 
dangled  before  our  eyes,  hundreds  of  imagin- 
ai'y  obstacles  seem  to  intervene,  dooming  us 
to  bitter  disappointment.  Like  the  intrica- 
cies of  a  dream,  in  which  we  ask  ourselves  is 
this  merely  visionary  or  is  it  real  ?  and  in  our 
dream  we  indorse  it  with  a  tinge  of  reality. 
At  last  we  awake,  and  it  is  gone  forever, 
leaving  a  shadowy  imprint  of  tantalizing  joy 
or  unspeakable  terror,  which  lives  in  our 
memory  for  a  day  and  is  then  filed  away,  a 
blank  leaf  in  the  archives  of  our  life. 

All  day  I  had  been  reaching  for  my  pro- 
spective reward.  Every  circumstance  had 
favored  me  ;  every  incident  seemed  to  con- 
firm the  fact  that  it  had  been  honestly  offered 
and  fairly  earned.     Yet,  even  as  I  thought,  I 


would  warn  myself  that  there  might  be  some 
mistake,  and  here  was  the  first  evidence  of 
it  which  I  felt,  but  could  not  bring  myself 
to  believe. 

Tlie  next  day  the  New  York  Sun  con- 
tained a  full  account  of  the  discovery  of  the 
body,  with  a  description  of  the  articles  found 
near  it. 

On  Tuesday  there  arrived  from  New  York 
a  German  lady,  who  had  read  the  article  in 
the  Sun,  and  believed  it  to  be  the  solution  of 
the  mystery  attending  the  disappearance  of 
her  husband,  A.  K.  Ritch,  two  weeks  before. 
Inquiring  for  the  chief  of  police,  she  was  ac- 
companied by  him  to  the  undertaker's  room, 
where  she  identified  the  body  as  that  of  her 
husband,  and  substantiated  her  belief  by  a 
description  of  the  articles  which  had  been 
taken  possession  of  by  the  proper  authorities. 

There  now  seemed  little  doubt  that  all 
difliculties  regarding  the  investment  of  our 
reward  had  been  removed,  especially  as 
further  developments  indicated  that  financial 
embarrassment  had  been  the  incentive  to 
suicide. 

The  following  item,  which  appeared  in  the 
New  York  papers  during  the  week,  completes 
the  history  of  this  strange  coincidence  so  far 
as  I  am  concerned  : 

THE    WANDERER    RETURNED. 

"  Mr.  Henry  Roberts,  of  Williamsport,  Pa., 
whose  disappearance  a  few  days  since  caused 
so  much  apprehension  among  his  friends,  re- 
turned to  his  home  on  Monday  last.  Beyond 
the  fact  that  he  been  in  New  York  city,  no 
explanation  of  his  absence  has  been  made 
public." 

Whether  the  missing  contractor  was  our 
traveling  companion  on  the  return  trip  Sun- 
day night,  I  have  never  ascertained.  I  soon 
lost  all  interest  in  the  affair,  but  liave  since 
felt  considerable  sympathy  for  the  police 
oflflcials  who  invent  theories  to  fit  their 
mysterious  cases,  and  subsequently  see  them 
demolished  by  actual  facts. 


Ijeander's  Tour 

Political  investigation,  of  course.  Leandcr 
fully  realized  the  responsibility  of  liis  posi- 
tion. No  doubt  it  had  been  his  boyhood's 
dream  to  become  a  life  member  of  a  political 
investigation  society,  and  be  drawing  a  reg- 
ular salary;  to  feel  constantly  iinder  the  in- 
fluence of  the  active  stimulant  of  promised 
success,  as  one  feels  who  is  pursuing  the  dis- 
covery of  "  perpetual  motion,"  as  well  as  to 
possess  the  sweet  assurance  that,  as  a  politi- 
cal investigator,  he  will  be  kept  just  as  far 
from  a  knowledge  of  the  actual  condition  of 
political  affairs  as  will  insure  his  own  self- 
complacency  and  a  growing  respect  for  the 
exploits  of  the  political  party  under  consid- 
eration. 

It  was  a  few  weeks  after  election  day.  Ac- 
cording to  our  bulletins,  Hayes  had  been 
elected  five  times  and  Tilden  three,  "by  a 
large  majority."  There  was  some  uncertainty 
in  Louisiana,  and  this  was  what  Leander  was 
croins:  to  look  after.  It  was  at  a  time  in  the 
national  contest  when  men  were  sparing 
neither  money  nor  time. 

Leander  was  a  little  short  of  money,  but 
had  considerable  "  time "  on  hand,  mostly 
"  small  hours,"  and  Mrs.  Leander,  who  sat  up 
for  him,  can  testify  how  many  of  these  he 
gladly  threw  into  the  common  National 
cause. 

That  "  common  National  cause "  has 
thrown  a  protecting  mantle  over  many  a 
"small  hour"  that  would  otherwise  have 
had  to  bear  the  "  lance  of  analysis."  More 
than  one  family  had  a  "  common  National 
cause  "  at  that  time.  But  this  is  a  difjression 
that  cannot  be  followed  up  much  longer  with- 
out disaster.     So,  to  return : 

Leander  was  to  start  at  once  for  Louisiana, 
and  said  he  should  take  his  life  in  his  hand. 
Some  people  often  take  their  lives  along  with 
them.  Leander  may,  however,  have  meant  a 
shot-crun. 

His  purpose  was  to  disguise  himself,  upon 
his  arrival  in  Louisiana,  as  a  negro  of  the 
most  vmconstitutional  stamp.     This,  in  order 


of  Tnvestigatiotif 

to  get  unquestioned  access  to  the  negro,  his 
hut,  his  political  sentiments,  if  any,  and  his 
situation  as  a  citizen  and  as  a  voter.  While 
Leander  was  to  be  violently  political  among 
politicians,  and  let  no  occasion  slip  to  express 
an  active  interest  in  the  issues  of  the  hour,  he 
should  be  kindly  disposed  and  lenient  toward 
all  parties.  He  would  inquire  after  the  health 
of  the  White  Leaguers  and  the  Ku-Klux 
family.  He  should  try  to  secure  cheap  board 
in  the  house  of  a  poor  but  respectable  bull- 
dozer. Like  Mark  Twain  among  the  fixed 
stars,  if  there  were  any  returns  needed  fixing, 
Leander  was  pledged  to  fix  them.  If  it  made 
trouble,  he  should  be  sorry,  but  firm. 

The  great  need  of  the  hour  was  a  President 
— honestly,  if  he  could  be  got  honestly — but 
anyway  a  President.  A  President,  even  if 
he  wouldn't  "wash,"  and  fell  short  a  trifle 
of  being  "all  wool  and  a  yard  wide;"  so 
that  it  was  understood,  if,  at  any  part  of  our 
investigator's  route,  an  oflicial  and  "truly" 
President  should  be  announced  as  unques- 
tionably elected,  Leander  should  return  home. 

A  slight  accident  to  the  train  upon  which 
he  set  out  delayed  him  over  night  in  the  little 
town  of  Kennebunk,  Maine.  As  he  passed 
along  the  principal  business  thoroughfare  of 
the  town,  he  was  struck  with  the  general  ap- 
pearance of  desertion  everywhere  along  the 
way.     Not  even  a  dog  or  a  rumbling  wheel 

"Rasped  the  mysterious  silence." 

Had  it  been  a  good  day  for  foxes,  they 
raiffht  have  "dusr  their  holes  unscared,"  and 
no  questions  asked.  Doors  swung  on  their 
hinges,  revealing  cold  and  untenanted  rooms. 
Even  "  meals  at  all  hours,"  and  the  periodi- 
cal depots,  seemed  to  have  "  struck,"  and 
left  the  benighted  traveler  to  shirk  for  him- 
self. Perhaps  even  the  telegraph  oflice  was 
on  the  retired  list !  The  spirit  of  investiga- 
tion came  powerfully  upon  Leander.  Shout- 
ing, "'Tis  sweet,  oh,  'tis  sweet  for  our  country 
to  die,"  he  took  his  life  in  his  hand  and  fol- 
lowed the  wires.     Presently  in  the  distance 


/ 


50 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


loomed  up  before  liim  a  dense,  moving  cloud. 
It  had  settled  upon  and  around  the  telegraph 
office. 

Sections  of  tliis  black  cloud  trailed  over 
the  fences,  and  seemed  to  hang  in  festoons 
from  the  house-tops.  The  fact  was  as  the 
gentle  reader  has  no  doubt  anticipated.  The 
■whole  town  was  out  en  masse  to  get  the 
"  latest"  fro:n  the  telegraph  ! 

Even  then  it  was  going  up  on  the  bulletin 
board.  But  Avhat  is  a  bulletin  board  where 
one  can  go  behind  the  scenes,  as  Leander 
could,  and  have  the  wires  and  the  operator 
all  to  himself ! 

As  the  ci'owd  surged  away  from  the  office, 
to  press  around  the  bulletin  board,  Leander 
pressed  forward  into  the  office.  "  What's 
the  latest,  William  ?  " 
"  Here  it  is.  Hayes  elected  by  one  majority." 
"  All  right,  William,  thank  you  ;  I'll  go 
back  home  on  this  train." 

"  Hold  on,  Leander,  Portland  says  he'll 
have  something  definite  soon.  Everything 
depends  on  the  next  news." 

Leander  held  on.  The  next  news  was  that 
there  was  "  fear  of  a  turmoil  in  Louisiana." 

Evidently  that  State  was  entirely  out  of 
political  investigators.  Leander  concluded 
to  resume  his  journey  to  Louisiana,  but 
before  he  could  get  his  life  into  his  hands 
again  the  lightning  was  ahead  of  him  with 
the  news  that  "  corrected  returns  from  thirty- 
one  counties,  with  eight  to  bear  from,  esti- 
mates based  on  the  election  of  1874,  give 
Democratic  majority  in  Florida  of  1,700." 

"  'Rah  for  Tilden  !  "  remarked  a  fellow  from 
the  roof  of  the  blacksmith's  shop. 

Leander  saw  by  the  town  clock  that  he 
had  lost  the  "  half-past  "  train,  and  concluded 
to  take  the  train  that  left  "  twenty  minutes 
of,"  and  that  would  leave  a  margin  to  get 
the  very  latest  news  before  starting. 

And  the  news  did  come  in  time  for  him  to 
reach  the  train  had  he  gone  trainward  after 
learning  that  "  dispatches  received  from  most 
prominent  men  in  New  Orleans  say  that  the 
dispatches  claiming  the  State  for  Tilden  arc 


erroneous. 


?j 


"'Rah  for  Hayes!"  remarked  a  fellow  in 
the  door  of  the  barber's  shop.  "  Hold  on, 
Leander.  Here  it  is.  Mr.  Smith  has  been  to 
South  Carolina  and  says  it  is  for  Hayes  by 
10,000  majority.  Official.  Mr.  Smith  has 
seen  Hayes,  and  seen  the  majority." 

"  'Rah  for  Smith  !  "  remarked  two  fellows 
from  an  upper  window  of  the  dye  house. 

The  train  that  left  at  "  twenty  minutes  of" 
was  whistling  in  the  outward  bound  distance, 
but  then  there  was  another  that  left  at  "  a 
quarter  to,"  and  surely,  at  a  time  of  our 
country's  peril,  it  is  always  best  to  know 
what  that  peril  is,  thought  Leander,  so  he 
lingered  yet  awhile  longer.  Perhaps  the 
next  dispatch  would  settle  it.  Everybody 
said  so;  even  the  editor  of  the  Morninr/ 
Chirrup,  and  Leander  was  never  known  to 
question  the  veracity  of  an  editor. 

Toward  noon  the  Boston  Journal  claimed 
North  Carolina.  Nobody  objected  to  this. 
In  fact,  the  people  of  the  town  seemed  to  be 
glad  that  North  Carolina  had  fallen  into 
such  good  hands. 

The  editor  of  the  Chirrup  did  not  remem- 
ber of  an  instance  where  a  State  was  owned 
by  a  private  party.  Still,  he  said,  he  should 
have  claimed  Florida  years  ago  if  he'd  only 
had  subscribers  enough. 

Leander  was  rewarded  for  waitiuc:.  To- 
ward  night  something  definite  came,  viz: 

"  There  is  nothing  later  than  the  Morning 
Chirrup^ 

Everybody  knew  this  to  be  true,  for  there 
had  been  no  bulletin  all  day.  The  Chirrup 
forthwith  stepped  upward  one  round  on  the 
ladder  of  fame. 

Leander  said  he  would  wait  one  more  day, 
if  the  general  feeling  was  that  a  decisive  re- 
sult with  regard  to  the  election  would  be 
reached  during  the  day. 

The  operator  proceeded  to  find  out  what 
the  general  feeling  was,  with  the  following 
result : 

9:30  A.  M. :     "  The  Globe  is  in  doubt." 
9:45  :     "  Fears  of  trouble  in  Louisiana  in- 
creasing.    AVhitc  Leaguers  tuning  their  in- 
sti'uments." 


CONGRESSIONAL  INVESTIGATING   COMMITTEE. 


51 


9:48  :  "  Rumored  that  somebody  in  Wis- 
consin lias  spelled  an  elector's  name  wrong. 
This  gives  one  vote  to  the  Democrats," 

10  A.  M. :  "  The  Xew  Hampshire  Jialnhoio 
says  Hayes  ran  GOO  to  800  ahead  of  his 
ticket  in  Florida.  Official.  Our  special  cor- 
respondent was  there  and  saw  him  run." 

11:06  A.  M. :  "President  Grant  and  cabi- 
net are  going  to  compare  views.  All  agree 
tliat  it  is  the  best  time  for  '  views '  that  we 
have  had  since  the  Beechcr  trial." 

1  r.  M.  (from  Cranberry  Isle) :  "  Demo- 
crats here  have  given  up  the  struggle  and 
gone  to  dinner." 

9  p.  M. :  "  No  change.  National  pulse  up 
to  hundred  and  fifty.  Symptoms  of  Ilay(es) 
fever." 

10:50  r.  m.  :  Something  definite  expected 
before  morninc:." 

Leander  was  encouraged.  He  decided  to 
give  the  national  question  one  more  day's  con- 


sideration before  leaving  for  the  seat  of  war. 
Another  day  passed :  another,  and  an- 
other, during  which  the  "definite  result," 
ever  rccccding  from  the  pursuer's  grasp, 
suddenly  vanished. 

Leander  was  getting  somewhat  muddled 
as  to  the  best  locality  for  his  "  investigation." 
Louisiana  evidently  needed  him.  Florida 
also;  and  North  Carolina  was  spoiling  for 
him,  and  certainly  in  South  Carolina  and 
Oregon  an  investigator  need  not  perish  for 
want  of  employment.  The  trouble  with 
Leander  was  the  same  as  with  the  man  who 
had  so  much  mind  it  took  him  a  week  to 
make  it  up. 

He  never  swam  that  Hellespont  of  investi- 
gation.    He  came  home. 

Leander  won't  talk  politics  any  more  now. 
He  is  going  to  work  in  a  sail-loft,  and  that 
kind  of  "  canvas  "  is  the  only  kind  he  wants 
in  his. 


Congressional  Investigating  Cotntnittee, 


The  reader  will  only  need  to  recall  the  action  of 
the  House  of  Representatives  during  the  late  Piesi- 
dential  contest  to  appreciate  the  following : 

Ben  Bilton  sworn. 

Chairman :    What  is  your  name  ? 

Witness :    Biltou. 

Stenographer :    Your  initials  ? 

Witness :  I  sign  "  F." 

Chairman :     What  is  your  first  name  ? 

Witness :  Oh !  Ben, 

Chairman:  How  long  have  you  operated  in 
Florida,  Mr.  Bilton  ? 

Witness  :  Well,  first  in  the  spring  of  1855  me  and 
Schemerhorn  went  from — 

Chairman :  We  don't  want  to  hear  about  Schemer- 
horn  or  '55  either.  Did  you  work  there  in  Novem- 
ber, '7G  ? 

Witness:  Yes,  sir;  I  subbed  in  Tallahassee  that 
month. 

Chairman  :  While  subbing  there,  did  you  see  or 
hear  of  a  message  from  Chandler  to  Stearns,  mention- 
ing money  and  troops  ? 

Witness:  Yes,  sir;  I  received  it  myself,  and 
asked  about  those  two  words. 


Chairman :  Asked  who? 

Witness :  Oh,  you  don't  "  13 ;  "  I  mean  I  broke  on 
"  money,"    It's  not  unusual  for  operators  to  do  that. 

Chairman :  Was  this  message  delivered  promptly  ? 

Witness :  I  don't  know  ;  I  think  the  money  and 
soldiers  were. 

Republican  Member :  Please  confine  yourself  to 
answering  questions.    Do  you  know  Mr.  Stearns  ? 

Witness:  Stearns,  the  duplex  worker? 

Members  together :  No;  Gov.  Stearns  of  Florida? 

Witness :  Not  intimately. 

Republican  Member :  How  loDg  can  an  operator 
remember  a  message  ? 

Witness :  That  varies  according  to  circumstances. 
Some  remember  a  "  bulled "  message  eighteen 
months,, when  they  could  not  repeat  an  ordinary 
message  a  day  old. 

Chairman:  How  long  does  the  company  preserve 
the  originals  ? 

Witness:  I  don't  know;  but  judging  from  the 
date  of  changed  checks  and  other  errors,  I  should 
say  they  preserved  them  forever. 

Chairman  :  That  will  do. 

Republican  Member :   One  moment,  Mr.  Bilton. 


53 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


What  influenced  you  to  come  so  far  to  give  this 
testimony  ? 

Witness :  Tlie  eloquence  of  the  deputy  sergeant- 
at-arms  and  a  morbid  desire  to  scoop  in  that 
milea''e  business.    But  I  didn't  count  on  sucli  a 


"  roast "  as  this,  and  I  am  glad  that  it  is  at  last  over. 

Chairman :  Bring  in  Mr.  Orton  again. 

AVhen  leaving  the  room,  Mr.  Bilton  completely 
put  his  foot  in  it,  by  asking  the  door-keeper  the  way 
to  the  "  bar  "  of  the  House. 


The  Song  of  the  Wire, 


Sing  !  wires,  sing ! 
Ye  iron  threads  of  life,  what  tidings  bear  ye  now? 

Is't  fortune's  smile,  or  fortune's  frown, 
Or  the  blight  of  a  broken  vow  ? 
Sing !  wires,  sing  ! 
If  not  on  evil  bent ; 


And  yet  I  know,  your  whisperings  low 

Are  not  unbidden  sent. 
Of  joj-^  or  pain,  of  weal  or  woe — 

Whate'er  the  message  be — 
Of  death  or  life,  of  peace  or  strife — 

Ye  vary  not  your  key. 


Some  Grave  Thoughts, 


"When  you  are  dead,  what  then?  "Will  the  deafen- 
ing clatter  of  the  little  busy  instruments  at  197  or 
145  Broadway  die  away?  Will  the  quad  and 
duplex  be  suspended  and  the  automatic  and  combi- 
nation printers  be  hushed  as  your  former  confreres 
gaze  sadly  upon  each  other  and  tenderly  whisper 
that  a  great  and  good  man,  a  model  operator,  and  a 
faithful  friend,  has  passed  to  his  long  home?  Will 
the  flag  on  the  Western  Union  building  be  lowered 
to  half  mast,  and  the  elevators  cease  to  run  because 
the  funeral  bell  rings  out  the  solemn  fact  that  one 
wc  knew  and  loved  will  walk  with  and  among  us 
no  more  forever  ?  Will  merchants  close  their  stores 
and  pedestrians  leave  the  streets  to  sorrow  over 
tlie  passing  away  of  one  whom  the  telegraphic  pro- 
fession held  dear  ? 

"When  I  am  dead"  some  one  will  grieve.  A 
father  and  mother,  a  sister  or  brother,  a  particular 
friend,  perhaps  a  distant  fellow  operator  whose  face  I 
have  never  seen,  and  one  or  two  may  feel  a  twinge  of 
genuine  sorrow  at  the  heart  as  they  see  the  crape  on 
the  door,  or  hear  the  low  thud  of  the  earth  as  it 
falls  upon  my  coffin  in  the  lowly  grave.  Great  New 
York  will  not  know  it,  or  knowing  will  forget  it  in 
an  hour,  and  I  shall  not  be  missed.  Another  will 
occupy  my  desk  in  the  office,  and  few  will  re- 
member that  I  ever  even  worked  there.  If  one  man 
turns  ofl"  Broadway  the  passing  throng  does  not 
seem  the  less  in  number ;  if  one  vehicle  turns  aside 
the  monotonous  roar  continues  just  as  loud.  Mes- 
sages will  be  sent  and  received  as  before,  operators 
go  on  duty  and  return  as  now,  and  tlie  man  who 
carves  my  name  upon  the  marble  stone  will  re- 
member me  longest.  There  are  dead  whom  we  re- 
member as  we  sit  in  the  twilight  and  muse — there 
are  no  dead  whom  we  remember  as  we  sit  at  our 
desk  in  the  office  or  walk  the  busy  streets.  Passing 
away  they  left  no  foot-prints  by  which  they  can  be 


traced  while  daylight  lasts.  The  feet  of  the  living 
press  on  as  before,  and  obliterate  all  trace  that  one 
ever  walked  up  and  down  ahead  of  them, 

"  When  I  am  dead  "  in  a  village,  men  will  come 
and  look  soberly  and  sadly  upon  my  closed  eyes 
and  pale  face.    Death  will   seem  so  near  to  them 
that  they  will  feel  awed  and  silenced.    Women  will 
come  in  and  shed  tears  as  they  leave  a  flower  on 
the  lifeless  breast.     Children  will  walk  in  on  tiptoe, 
whispering  softly  as  if  a  word  loudly  spoken  might 
bring  me  back  to  battle  with  the  world  for  another 
lifetime.    Neighboring  operators  and  railroad  em. 
ployes,  whose  acquaintances    I  had  formed,  will 
look  over  the  edge  of  the  coffin  upon  eyes  that 
never  again  will  open  and  upon  lips  that  will  never 
again  be  parted,  and  they  will  be  afraid  of  me  even 
while  they  sorrow.    Hundreds  will  gather  to  follow 
me  to  the  grave  under  the  young  oaks,  and  as  the 
man  of  God  opens  his  arms  and  whispers,  "  Ashes 
to  ashes  and  dust  to  dust,"  every  face  will  wear  a 
look  of  grief  and  every  eye  be  moistened.    My 
memory  will  live  green  in  their  thoughts  for  weeks 
and  months,  and  a  quarter  of  a  century  after  grim 
death  shall  have  folded  me  in  his  leaden    arms 
perhaps  some  old  man,  sitting  in  the  summer  shade 
and  waiting  for  the  watchword,  will  recall  my  name 
and  remember  the  far-ofl  days  when    he    and    I 
worked  a  telegraph  wire  together. 

But  "  when  I  am  dead  "  in  a  great  city  people  will 
miss  me  only  as  the  ocean  misses  the  shell  dragged 
up  by  the  fisherman's  net.  The  tide  of  humanity 
will  ebb  and  flow  without  pause,  men  and  women 
and  children  will  laugh  and  smile  as  before,  and 
even  telegraphers  with  whom  I  was  familiar  will 
fail  to  remember  Avhether  I  left  their  midst  to  accept 
a  position  somewhere  in  the  Far  West  or  to  engage 
in  other  business ;  and  acquaintances,  whose  hands 
I  have  pressed,  will  forget  whether  I  sailed  away 


KATE. 


53 


to  some  for-off  country  or  was  laid  in  tlie  silent 
grave.  I  hope,  however,  that,  in  the  words  of 
William  CuUen  Bryant,  I  shall 

So  live,  that,  when  my  summons  comes  to  join 

The  innumerable  caravan,  that  moves 

To  that  mysterious  realm  where  each  shall  take 


His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death, 
I  shall  not  go,  like  the  quarry-slave  at  night, 
Scourged   to    his  dungeon;    but,  sustain'd   and 

sooth'd 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  the  grave 
Like  one  who  draws  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams. 


Kate. 

AN   ELECTROMECHANICAL   ROMANCE. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE    ENGINE. 


She  was  a  beauty.  From  head-light  to 
buffer-casting,  from  spark-arrester  to  air- 
brake couphng,  she  shone  resplendent.  A 
thing  of  grace  and  power,  she  seemed  instinct 
Avith  life  as  she  paused  upon  her  breathless 
flight.  Even  while  resting  quietly  upon  the 
track,  she  trembled  with  the  pulsations  of  her 
mighty  heart  Small  wonder  that  the  pas- 
sengers waiting  upon  the  platform  came 
down  to  gaze  upon  the  great  express  engine, 
No.  59.  She  seemed  long  and  slender  like 
a  greyhound,  and  her  glistening  sides,  deli- 
cate forefeet,  and  uplifted  head  were  sug- 
gestive of  speed  and  power. 

The  engineer  stepped  down  from  his  high 
throne  "with  his  long  nickel-plated  oiler  in 
hand,  and  the  fireman  clambered  over  the 
glistening  heap  of  coal  and  swung  round  the 
great  copper  water-pipe  that  the  magnificent 
creature  might  have  a  drink  of  pure  spring 
water.  The  engineer  looked  eagerly  up  and 
down  the  platform  as  if  in  search  of  some 
one.  Two  or  three  tourists  of  the  usual  type 
and  a  stray  idler  were  all  to  be  seen.  A 
group  of  big  fellows  were  unloading  mail 
bags,  and  beyond  them  the  busy  throng 
down  the  platform  was  lost  to  view.  How 
lovingly  he  touched  the  shining  arms  of  his 
great  pet  with  the  smooth  clear  oil,  golden 
and  limpid.  Here  her  great  cylinder,  seven- 
teen inches  wide,  and  with  a  stroke  of 
twenty-four,  safely  rested  behind  the  sturdy 
buttress  that  held  her  forefoot  so  daintily 
thrust  out  in  front.  The  head-light  gleamed 
in  all  the  sparkle  of  plate  glass,  and  her 
shapely  rods  fairly  glowed  in  polished  beauty. 
On  one  side  lay  her  boiler-feed  pump,  a 
finished  bit  of  mechanism,  and  on  the  other 
was  hung  a  steam-injector  for  forcing  water 
into  the  boiler  without  the  aid  of  the  pump. 
How  perfect  everything !  Even  the  driving- 
wheels  were  works  of  art.      From  balanced 


throttle-valves  to  air-brake  she  had  every 
device  that  American  skill  had  produced,  or 
that  such  an  engine  could  demand,  and  her 
thirty-five  tons  of  chained-up  energy  seemed 
the  perfect  expression  of  the  highest  me- 
chanic art. 

With  a  loud  roar  her  safety-valve  yielded 
to  her  pent-up  vitality  and  filled  all  the  air 


"a  handkerchief  is  QUICK1.Y  FLIRTED  IN  THE  AIR." 

with  clouds  of  steam.  The  engineer  gazed 
proudly  upon  his  noble  steed,  and  then 
looked  anxiously  down  the  platform  to  see  if 
any  came  whose  presence  would  be  welcome. 

The  fireman  swung  back  the  great  cop- 
per pipe,  and  the  idlers  suddenly  withdrew. 
The  last  trunk  was  thrown  in,  and  the  en- 
gineer climbed  slowly  up  into  his  house. 
He  looked  anxiously  about  the  long  plat- 
form. It  was  nearly  clear,  and  he  could 
see  the  gold  band  on  the  conductor's  hat 
glistening  in  the  sun. 

Where  can  she  linger?     Why  does  she 


54 


LicnTNiNG  flashes: 


not  come  ?  59  is  here,  and  still  she  comes 
not.  The  gold-banded  cap  is  lifted  in  the 
air.  "With  one  hand  on  the  throttle-valve, 
tlie  engineer  glances  down  the  long  emj)ty 
platform.  The  bell  rings  ;  there  is  a  hissing 
sound  beneath  the  giant's  feet ;  the  house 
trembles  slighdy;  the  water-tank  seems  to 
move  backward ;  the  roar  of  the  safety-valve 
sudilenly  stops ;  the  fury  of  the  great  iron 
monster  vents  itself  in  short  deep  gasps; 
clouds  of  smoke  pour  down  on  every- 
thing. They  almost  hide  the  platform  from 
view. 

Ah  !  A  dress  fluttering  in  the  door-way. 
Some  one  appears  abruptly  upon  the  plat- 
form. With  both  hands  on  the  throttle- 
valve,  the  engineer  leans  out  the  window.  A 
handkerchief  is  quickly  flirted  in  the  air.  He 
nods,  smiles,  and  then  turns  grimly  away, 
and  stares  out  ahead  with  a  fixed  look  as  if 
the  world  had  suddenly  grown  very  dark, 
and  life  was  an  iron  road  with  dangers 
everywhere.  The  fireman  shovels  coal  into 
the  fiery  cavern  at  the  engineer's  feet,  and 
then  stirs  up  the  glowing  mass  till  it  roars 
and  flames  with  fury.  The  steam-gauge 
trembles  at  120°,  and  quickly  rises  to  125*^. 
The  vast  engine  trembles  and  throbs  as  it 
leaps  forward.  The  landscape — woods, 
houses  and  fields  seem  to  take  wings  in  a 
wild  Titanic  waltz.  The  engineer  gazes  ahead 
with  tight-set  lips,  but  his  heart  can  outrun 
his  locomotive,  and  lingers  behind  at  the 
deserted  way-station. 

CHAPTER  II. 
THE  TELEGRAPH  OPERATOR. 

With  that  perversity  for  which  railroads 
are  famous,  the  line  did  not  enter  the  town, 
but  passed  along  its  outermost  edge,  among 
the  farms  and  woodlands.  This  affected  the 
life  of  the  place  curiously.  At  one  hour  the 
station  was  animated  and  thronged  with  peo- 
ple; at  another  it  was  dull,  quiet  and  de- 
serted by  all  save  the  station-master  and  his 
daughter.  She  it  was  who  guarded  the 
little  telegraph  office,  received  and  sent  the 
telegrams  of  the  town,  and  did  anything 
else  that  pertained  to  her  position.  She  had 
a  little  box  of  a  place  portioned  off  in  one 
corner  of  the  ladies'  waiting-room,  where 
there  was  a  sunny  window  that  looked  far 
up  the  line,  and  a  little  opening  where  she 
received  the  messages.  She  viewed  life 
through  this  scant  outlook,  and  thought  it 
very  queer.  Were  people  always  in  a  state  of 
excitement  ?  Did  everybody  have  trouble 
in  the  family  that  demanded  such  breathless, 


heart-rending  messages  ?  Was  it  in  every 
life  to  have  these  awful,  sudden  things  hap- 
pen ?  Life  from  her  point  of  view  was  more 
tragic  than  joyful,  and  she  sometimes  thought 
it  a  relief  to  receive  a  prosy  order  to  "  tell 
Jones  bring  back  boots  and  have  mower 
mended."  Sometimes  between  the  trains 
the  stallion  was  quite  deserted,  and  were 
it  not  for  the  ticking  of  the  clock,  and 
the  incessant  ratUe  of  the  fretful  machine  on 
her  desk,  it  would  be  as  still  as  a  church  on 
Monday.  At  first  she  amused  herself  by 
listening  to  the  strange  language  of  the  wires, 
and  she  even  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
other  operators.  With  one  exception  they 
all  failed  to  interest  her.  They  were  a  frivo- 
lous set,  and  their  chatter  seemed  as  empty 
as  the  rattle  of  a  brass  sounder.  One  girl 
she  knew  must  be  a  lady.  Her  style  of 
touch,  and  the  general  manner  of  her  work, 
showed  that  plainly,  and  between  the  two  a 
friendship  sprang  up,  though  they  lived  a 
hundred  miles  apart,  and  had  never  met. 
Finally,  she  took  wisely  to  reading  books, 
and  the  sounder  chattered  in  vain,  except 
on  business. 

Then  there  was  John.  She  saw  him  for 
one  hurried  moment  every  day,  and  the 
thinking  of  it  filled  many  a  weary  hour.  He 
was  the  engineer  of  the  express,  and  stopped 
at  the  station  every  afternoon  at  five  and 
just  before  daylight  every  morning.  She 
met  him  at  the  water-tank  by  day,  and  by 
night  she  awoke  to  hear  his  train  thunder 
through  the  valley.  She  heard  it  whistle  as 
it  passed  the  grade  crossing,  a  mile  up  the 
line,  and  as  it  pulled  up  at  the  station.  If 
the  night  was  calm,  she  heard  the  faint 
rumble  as  it  flew  over  the  resounding  iron 
bridge  at  the  river.  Then  she  slept  again. 
He  would  soon  reach  the  city,  and  on  the 
morrow  she  would  see  him  again. 

The  happy  morrow  always  found  her  at 
her  post,  busy  and  cheerful  as  the  long  day 
crept  away,  and  the  time  drew  near  for 
his  train.  Oh  !  if  her  Avindow  only  looked 
out  the  other  way,  that  she  might  see  No. 
59  come  round  the  curve  in  the  woods! 
The  station  was  always  full  at  that  hour,  and 
messages  were  sure  to  come  in  just  as  she 
wanted  to  close  her  little  ofiice  and  go  out 
to  the  water-tank,  where  John  waited,  oiler 
in  hand,  to  see  her.  Strange,  that  he 
should  always  be  oiling  up  just  there. 

This  time,  she  waited  with  calm  face 
and  beating  heart  to  see  if  any  stupid 
passenger  had  forgotten  anything,  that  he 
must  telegraph  home.  Fortunately,  none 
came,  and   as   the   engine  rolled  past   her 


KATE. 


55 


vindow,  she  hastily  put  on  her  pretty  hat 
and  ample  cloak  and  went  out  on  the  plat- 
form A  few  quick  steps,  and  she  was  be- 
side the  noble  59. 

The  fireman  smiled  a  grimy  smile,  and, 
while  he  swung  the  water-pipe  over  the  ten- 
der, he  gave  a  lively  whistle.  The  engineer 
tipped  up  his  oiler  with  a  sudden  jerk,  as  if 
the  piston-rod  had  quite  enough,  and  then 
climbed  hastily  into  the  cab.  There  she  sat 
on  the  fireman's  perch,  radiant,  blushing,  and 
winsome. 

"  She's  a  beauty — perfectly  lovely,  and  a 
Westinghouse,  too !  I  tried  to  see  you  yes- 
terday, and  aren't  you  very  proud  of  her  ?  " 

John  thought  he  was  rather  proud  of  59. 
She  was  perfect.  Ran  her  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  yesterday,  for  the  first  time.  The 
little  electrician  was  charmed.  To  think  that 
John  should  be  appointed  master  over  the 
Company's  new  express  engine.  Dear  fellow, 
he  had  run  that  old  13,  till  she  was  ready  to 
ratde  to  pieces.  And  now,  what  a  magnifi- 
cent machine  he  had  beneath  him ! 

"And  everything  is  so  bright  and  hand- 
some.    I  know  you're  proud  of  her." 

John  thought  he  was  also  proud  of  some- 
body else.  Then  they  smiled,  and  the  fire- 
man whisded  softly  as  he  pushed  back  the 
water-spout.  How  brief  the  precious  mo- 
ments ! 

John  pulled  out  a  little  "blank-book  and 
began  hastily  to  tell  her  about  the  nev/ 
prize  the  Directors  had  offered  to  the  en- 
gineer who  should  travel  five  thousand  miles 
with  the  least  expenditure  of  coal  and  oil. 
It  would  take  about  twenty-seven  days  to 
decide  the  matter,  and  then  the  books 
would  be  all  handed  in,  and  the  records 
examined,  and  the  prize  awarded. 

"And  if  we  could  get  it!" 

"  It  would  come  in  very  convenient 
for " 


She  blushed  a  rosy  blush,  and,  clasping 
his  arm,  she  laughed  softly,  and  said : 

"  My  dear,  you  must  win  it.  We  shall 
want  it  for — our " 

"  Lively,  now!  Here  comes  the  Conduc." 

What  a  friendly  fireman !  How  sharp  he 
watched  for  the  lovers !  The  girl  prepared 
to  spring  down  from  the  engine  when  the 
gold-banded  cap  of  the  conductor  came  in 
sight. 

"  Run  up  to  the  siding.  Mills,  and  bring 
down  that  extra  car." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir.  Cast  off  the  couplings, 
Dick."  Then,  in  a  whisper :  "  Wait  a  bit, 
Kate.     Ride  up  to  the  siding  with  us." 

The  girl  needed  no  invitation. 


"  Oh  !  I  intended  to.  Here,  let  me  tend 
the  bell." 

"  Good !  Do.  Dick  must  tend  the  coup- 
lings." 

With  a  hiss  and  a  jar  the  monster  started 
forward,  while  the  girl  sat  on  the  fireman's 
high  seat  with  her  hand  on  the  bell-rope  and 
one  little  foot  steadied  against  the  boiler. 
Suddenly,  John  turned  the  valve  for  the  air- 
brake and  reversed  his  lever,  and  the  mon- 
ster stopped.  A  deafening  blast  from  the 
whistle. 

"  Where  is  that  signal  man  ?  Why  don't 
he  show  his  flag  ?  " 

Again  the  whistle  roared  in  short,  quick 
blasts. 

"  Oh !     Wliy  didn't  I  think  of  it  before  ?  " 

"Think  of  what?" 

"That  whistle.  You  could  use  it  to  call 
me." 

"\\Tien?" 

"\\liy,  you  see,  I  never  exactly  know 
when  you  are  coming.  I  cannot  tell  your 
whistle  from  any  other,  and  so,  I  sometimes 
miss  seeing  you." 

"  I — have — noticed — that "  said  John, 

pulling  at  the  throttle  valve.  "  But,  what  can 
I  do  ?  If  I  gave  two  whistles  or  three,  they 
would  think  it  meant  some  signal,  and  it 
would  make  trouble." 

"  Yes,  but  if  you  did  this,  I  should  know 
you  were  coming,  and  nobody  would  think 
anything  of  it." 

So  saying,  she  stood  up,  leaned  over  the 
boiler,  and  grasping  the  iron  rod  that  moved 
the  whistle,  made  it  speak  in  long  and  short 
blasts,  that  may  be  represented  as  fol- 
lows : 


"  I  see.    Like  a  sounder.    Morse's  alpha- 
bet.    But  what  does  it  spell  ?  " 

"  K A T E  -" 

"  Oh !     Let  me  learn  that  by  heart." 
"You  must,  John.      And  will  it  not  be 
amusing  to  hear  the  folks  talk  ?     What  on 
earth  can  that  engineer  be  roaring  about 


with  his  ' 

The  signal-man  looked  indignant  as  59 
rolled  past  him.  What  was  the  good  of  such 
a  din  on  the  whistle !      Was  the  man  crazy ! 

"You  must  write  it  down,  Kate.  It  won't 
do  to  practice  now.  See  how  the  people 
stare  on — the — platform." 

The  sentence  v/as  broken  up  by  John's 
efforts  over  the  reversing  bar,  and  the  deep- 
toned  gasps  of  the  engine  drowned  further 
conversation.  The  monster  backed  into  the 
siding,  where  Dick  stood  ready  to  couple  on 
the  extra  car.     Then  he  climbed  up  into  the 


56 


LWnTNING  FLASHES. 


cab,  and  the  lovers  were  silenced.  The  en- 
gine, with  the  three,  rolled  out  upon  the  main 
line,  stopped,  and  then  backed  up  to  the 
train.  Kate,  with  a  jjcncil  wrote  some  marks 
on  the  edge  of  the  window-frame,  and  with 
a  bright  smile  she  shook  hands  with  the 


"the   girl   sat   on   the   fireman's   high   seat." 

burly  engineer,  nodded  to  the  fireman,  and 
then  sprang  lightly  to  the  ground. 

The  safety-valve  burst  out  with  a  deafen- 
ing roar.  The  smoke  belched  forth  in  clouds, 
and  while  fairy  rings  of  steam  shot  into  the 
air,  the  train  moved  slowly  away. 

Presendy,  the  girl  stood  alone  upon  the 
deserted  platform,  with  the  ruddy  glow  of 
the  setting  sun  gilding  her  bright  face. 

The  roar  of  the  train  melted  away  on  the 
air.  Still,  she  stood  listening  intently.  She 
would  wait  till  she  heard  him  whistle  at  the 
next  crossing.  Then,  like  a  mellow  horn 
softened  by  the  distance,  came  this  strange 
rhythmic  song : 

Andante. 


A  smile  and  a  blush  lit  up  her  winsome 
face. 

How  quickly  love  can  learn ! 

That  night,  the  waning  moon  sank  cold 
and  white  in  the  purple  west,  while  the 
morning  star  came  out  to  see  the  sleeping 
world.  Kate  awoke  suddenly  and  listened. 
Was  that  the  roar  of  his  train  ? 

Presto  vivace. 


"  How  soft  and  sweet  the  notes  so  far 
away  !  There !  He  has  crossed  the  bridge. 
Dear  John !" 

Then  she  slept  again. 

CHAPTER  III. 
THE  OTHER  OPERATOR. 

The  last  local  train  to  the  city  left  the 
station.  The  gray  old  station-master  put 
out  the  lamps  on  the  platform,  rolled  the 
baggage-trucks  into  the  freight-house,  and, 
having  made  the  tour  of  the  switches  to  see 
that  all  was  clear  for  the  main-line  night  mail, 
he  returned  to  his  litde  ticket  den. 

His  daughter  still  sat  reading  like  a  demure 
cat  in  her  litde  comer.  The  old  man  re- 
marked that  it  was  ten  o'clock,  and  time  to 
go  home. 

"  Leave  the  key,  father;  I'll  lock  up  and 
return  home  as  soon  as  I  have  finished  this 
chapter." 

Ihe  old  fellow  silently  laid  a  bunch  of 
keys  on  her  desk  and  Avent  his  way.  The 
moment  he  departed  she  finished  her  chap- 
ter in  a  flash,  and  laying  the  book  down, 
began  to  operate  her  telegraphic  apparatus. 


No   reply.      Middleboro    had   evidenUy 
gone  to  bed,  and  that  office  was  closed. 


No  response.  Dawson  City  refused  to  re- 
ply. Good.  Now,  if  the  operator  at  the 
junction  failed  to  reply,  she  and  Mary  would 
have  the  line  to  themselves  with  none  to 
overhear. 


Allston  Junction  paid  no  heed. 
Now  for : 


Good. 


Mary  replied  instanUy,  and  at  once  the 
two  girl  friends  were  in  close  conversation 
with  one  hundred  miles  of  land  and  water 
between  them.  The  conversation  was  by 
sound  in  a  series  of  long  and  short  notes — 
nervous  and  staccato  for  the  bright  one  in 
the  little  station  ;  smooth,  legato  and  placid 
for  the  city  girl. 

Translated,  it  ran  as  follows : 

Kate — "  I  taught  him  my  name  in  Morse's 
alphabet,  and  he  sounds  it  on  his  whisde  as 
he  comes  up  to  the  station  ;  but  I  am  in 
daily  terror  lest  some  impertinent  operator 
should  hear  it,  and,  catching  its  meaning, 
tell  of  it." 

The  other  operator  was  all  sympathy,  and 

replied : 


KATE. 


67 


"  I  see  the  danger.  At  the  same  time,  my 
dear,  I  think  the  idea  is  worthy  of  your  bright 
self.  It  is  perfectly  jolly.  Think  of  hearing 
one's  name  for  miles  over  the  country  on  a 
steam- whistle.  I  never  heard  of  anything  so 
romantic  in  my  life." 

Kate — "  And  when  he  passes  in  the  night 
he  sounds  my  name  all  through  the  valley, 
and  I  can  hear  it  for  miles.  How  people 
would  laugh  if  they  knew  what  it  meant." 

Mary — "They  would,  I'm  sure,  and  it 
would  be  very  unpleasant  to  be  found  out. 
Why  don't  you  fix  up  some  kind  of  open 
circuit  and  let  him  telegraph  to  you  from 
the  line  as  he  approaches  your  station  ?  " 

Kate — "  My  love,  your  idea  is  divine.  If 
I  only  had  a  wire." 

Mary — "  It  Avould  take  two  wires,  you 
know,  and  a  small  battery.  At  the  same 
time,  it  would  not  cost  much,  and  would  be 
perfectly  safe." 

Kate — "  Would  not  some  one  find  it  out 
and  be  ringing  the  bell  out  of  mischief?" 

Mary — "  No.  You  could  hide  the  con- 
nections in  the  bushes  or  trees  by  the  road, 
and  his  engine  could  touch  it  as  it  passed." 

Kate — "  Yes,  but  wouldn't  every  engine 
touch  it?" 

Mary — "  Then  you  could  fix  it  so  that  a 
stick,  or  something  secured  to  the  engine, 
would  brush  it  as  it  passed.  No  other  en- 
gine would  be  provided  with  the  stick,  and 
they  would  all  pass  in  silence." 

The  idea  was  almost  too  brilliant  for  con- 
templation, and  the  two  friends,  one  in  her 
deserted  and  lonely  station  in  the  far  country, 
and  the  other  in  the  fifth  story  of  a  city 
block,  held  close  converse  over  it  for  an  hour 
or  more,  and  then  they  bid  each  other  good 
night,  and  the  wires  were  at  rest  for  a 
time. 

About  five  one  afternoon  shortly  after, 
Kate  sat  in  her  office  waiting  for  59  to  sound 
its  Titanic  love-signal.  Presently  it  came  in 
loud-mouthed  notes : 


She  closed  her  little  office  hastily,  and  went 
out  on  the  platform.  As  she  opened  the 
door,  two  young  men  laughed  immoderately, 
and  one  said  aloud : 

"Kate!  Who's  Kate?" 

Found  out !  She  hastily  turned  away  to 
hide  the  blush  that  mounted  to  her  temples 
and  walked  rapidly  up  the  platform  to  the 
water-tank. 

59  rolled  up  to  the  spot,  and  the  lovers 
met.  With  one  hand  on  the  iron  front  of 
his  great  engine,  she  stood  waiting  him,  and 
at  once  began  to  talk  rapidly. 


"  It  will  never  do,  John !  They  have  found 
it  all  out." 

"  Oh  !  I  was  afraid  they  would.  Now, 
what  are  we  to  do  ?  If  I  could  only  tele- 
graph you  from  the  station  below." 

"  It  wouldn't  do.  It  is  too  far  away. 
Besides,  it  would  be  costly,  and  somebody 
would  suspect." 

"  Conduc ! "  shouted  the  fireman,  as  he 
swung  back  the  great  water-pipe. 

"  Good-bye,  dear,  I'm  sorry  we  must 
give  it  up." 

"  So  am  I.  And,  John,  come  and  spend 
next  Sunday  with  us." 

"Yes,  I  will.    Good-bye,    Good-bye." 

59  hissed  out  her  indignation  in  clouds 
of  steam  from  her  cylinders,  and  moved 
slowly  forward.  Then  Kate  stood  alone 
again  on  the  platform.  The  sun  sunk  in 
angry  clouds,  and  the  wind  sighed  in  the 
telegraph  wires  with  a  low  moaning  sound, 
fitful,  sad  and  dreary. 


d:-_L 


/      > 


"  KATE     UNROLLED    THE     WIRE     AS     HE    TOOK     IT     UP. 

The  next  morning  the  express  tore  savage- 
ly through  the  driving  rain,  and  thundered 
over  the  iron  bridge  till  it  roared  again.  The 
whistle  screamed,  but  love  no  longer  charm- 
ed its  iron  voice. 


58 


LIOHTNINO  FLASHES. 


The  electrician  listened  in   silence,  and 
then,  after  a  tear  or  two,  slept  again. 


CHAPTER   IV. 
LOVE    AND    LIGHTNING. 

It  was  a  lovely  autumnal  afternoon,  and 
the  lovers  went  out  to  walk  in  the  glorious 
Aveather. 

To  escape  observing  eyes,  they  wandered 
down  the  railroad  track  toward  the  woods, 
where  the  line  made  a  great  curve  to  avoid 
a  bend  in  the  river. 

After  a  while  they  reached  a  shady  dell  in 
the  woods,  and,  taking  down  a  bar  in  the 
fence,  they  entered  its  depths.  Just  here  the 
various  telegraph  wires  hung  in  long  festoons 
from  their  poles.  With  a  sudden  cry  of  de- 
light, she  seized  his  arm  and  cried  : 

"  Look,  John.  Just  the  thing.  An  aban- 
doned wire." 

"Well;  what  of  it?" 

"  My  dear,  can't  we  use  it  ?  Come,  let 
us  follow  it  and  see  where  it  goes.  Perhaps 
we  may  make  it  useful." 

John  failed  to  see  how  that  might  be. 
Kate  was  all  eagerness  to  follow  the  wire, 
and  returned  to  the  track,  and  began  to  trace 
the  wii'e  up  and  down  the  line  as  far  as  it 
was  visible.  John  replaced  the  fence  rail 
and  joined  her.  Then  she  began  to  talk  in 
that  rapid  manner  that  was  so  becoming  to 
her.  He  was  fairly  dazzled  by  the  brilliancy 
and  audacity  of  her  ideas.  They  both  walked 
on  the  sleepers  toward  the  bridge  over  the 
river.  The  wire  was  still  continuous,  but  after 
walking  about  half  a  mile,  they  found  it  was 
broken,  and  apparently  abandoned.  Then 
she  laid  down  her  plan.  This  wire  had  been 
put  up  by  a  certain  company  some  years 
since,  but  as  the  company  had  failed,  the 
wire  had  been  abandoned,  and  here  for  per- 
haps a  mile  it  was  still  hanging  on  its  insu- 
lators. At  the  bridge  it  came  to  a  sudden 
end. 

"  Now,  if  we  can  manage  to  rig  up  another 
wire  from  here  to  our  station  we  can  make 
an  open  circuit,  and  as  you  pass  this  point 

you  can  join  it  and ring  a  bell  in  my 

office!" 

The  two  sat  do\vn  on  the  iron  bridge 
and  fairly  laughed  at  the  splendor  of  the 
idea.     Suddenly  .she  looked  very  grave. 

"The  expense !" 

"  Ah  !  yes.  Well,  I'm  willing  to  pay  some- 
thing for  the  advantage  of  seeing  you  every 
day.     It's  worth " 

"  How  much  ?  " 


"About  $5,000,000." 

"John!" 

Two  days  after,  a  package  came  by  express 
from  the  city,  and  Kate  stowed  it  away  in 
her  telegraphic  den  till  the  evening.  Then, 
when  the  day  had  passed,  and  she  had  some 
leisure,  she  carefully  opened  it  and  found  a 
neat  little  wooden  box  with  a  small  brass 
gong  or  bell  attached  to  the  bottom.  A 
slender  hammer  hung  beside  it,  and  there 
were  places  for  securing  the  connecting 
wires,  an  electric  bell  and  3,000  feet  of  insu- 
lated wire  and  a  bill  for  the  same.  Eleven 
dollars. 

"  Not  half  so  bad  as  I  expected.  As  for 
the  battery,  I  fancy  I  can  make  one  myself. 
A  pickle  jar,  some  zinc  and  copper  and  a 
little  acid  will  answer,  and  John  can  arrange 
the  rest.  Fortunately  I  selected  insulated 
wire,  as  we  shall  have  to  carry  our  line 
through  the  woods  to  cut  off  that  bend  in 
the  road." 

Thus  talking  and  planning  to  herself,  she 
examined  her  purchase,  and  then  carefully 
placing  the  bell  and  the  wire  in  a  closet 
under  her  desk,  she  closed  up  the  station 
and  went  demurely  home,  conscious  of  the 
innocence  of  all  her  dark  plottings. 

The  third  day  after  seemed  like  the  Sab- 
bath, and  was  not.  It  ^vas  Thanksgiving 
Day,  and  all  the  very  good  people  went 
soberly  to  church.  The  good  people  like 
Kate  and  her  lover  did  nothing  of  the  kind. 
John  Mills,  engineer,  did  not  ride  on  No. 
59  that  day.  He  had  a  holiday,  and  came 
to  see  Kate  quite  early  in  the  morning. 
She  proposed  a  walk  in  the  woods,  as  the 
day  was  fine. 

"  Did  you  bring  the  boots?" 

"  I  did,  my  love,  spikes  and  all.  I  tried 
'em  on  an  apple-tree,  and  I  found  I  could 
walk  up  the  stem  as  nicely  as  a  fly  on  the 
ceihng." 

"  That  is  good;  for,  on  the  whole,  I  think 
we  must  shorten  the  line,  and  cut  off  that 
great  bend  in  the  road." 

"And  save  battery  power?" 

"  Yes.  My  pickle-jar  battery  works  well, 
but  I  find  that  it  is  not  particularly  power- 
ful. It  rings  the  bell  furiously  when  I  close 
the  circuit,  but  the  circuit  is  not  two  yards 
long.  What  it  will  do  when  the  line  is  up, 
remains  to  be  seen." 

"  Where  did  you  place  the  bell?" 

"  Oh,  I  hung  it  up  in  the  cupboard  under 
my  desk.  I  can  hear  it,  and  no  one  will 
be  likely  to  look  for  it  there.  But  that  is 
not  the  great  difficulty.  How  are  Ave  to 
hide  the  wires  that  enter  the  station?" 


KATE. 


59 


"I  wouldn't  try.  Let  them  stand  in 
plain  sight.  Not  a  soul  will  ever  notice 
them  among  the  crowd  of  wires  that  pass 
the  station." 

By  this  time  the  two  had  reached  the 
railroad  station,  and,  opening  her  little 
office,  they  both  went  in.  Presently  they 
reappeared,  each  with  a  brown  paper  parcel, 
and,  with  the  utmost  gravity,  walked  away 
down  the  line  toward  the  woods. 

In  a  few  moments  they  were  lost  to  view 
round  a  curve  in  the  road,  and  they  turned 
off-  toward  the  bank  and  sat  down  on  a 
large,  flat  stone. 

"  The  boots,  Kate." 

She  opened  the  bundle  she  had  in  her 
hand,  and  displayed  a  pair  of  iron  stirrups 
having  an  iron  rod  on  one  side,  and  a  sharp 
steel  point  on  the  bottom.  There  were  also 
leather  straps  and  buckles,  and  John,  laying 
aside  his  burden,  proceeded  to  strap  them 
to  his  feet.  When  ready,  the  iron  rods  or 
bars  reached  nearly  to  the  knee,  and  the 
steel  points  were  just  below  the  instep. 
Kate  meanwhile  took  a  pair  of  stout  shears 
from  her  pocket  and  began  to  open  the 
other  bundle.  It  contained  a  large  roll  of 
insulated  copper  wire,  some  tacks,  and  a 
hammer. 

Then  they  started  down  the  track,  with 
sharp  eyes  on  the  abandoned  wire  hanging 
in  long  festoons  from  its  insulators.  All 
right  so  far.  Ah!  a  break;  they  must 
repair  it.  Like  a  nimble  cat  John  mounted 
the  pole,  and  Kate  unrolled  the  wire  as  he 
took  it  up.  In  a  moment  or  two  he  had  it 
seciured  to  the  old  wire.  Then  up  the  next 
pole,  and  while  Kate  pulled  it  tight  he 
secured  it,  and  the  line  was  reunited. 

Then  on  and  on  they  walked,  watching 
the  wire,  and  still  finding  it  whole.  At  last 
they  reached  the  great  iron  bridge,  and 
anxiously  scanned  the  dozen  or  more  wires, 
to  see  if  their  particular  thread  was  still 
continuous. 

"  We  must  cross  the  river,  John.  The 
line  seems  to  be  whole,  and  we  can  take 
our  new  line  through  the  woods  on  the 
other  shore  till  we  reach  the  town  bridge." 

It  was  a  relief  to  leave  the  dizzy  open 
sleepers  of  the  bridge  and  stand  once  more 
on  firm  ground. 

"  This  must  be  the  limit  of  our  circuit.  I 
wish  it  was  larger,  for  it  will  not  give  me 
more  than  three  minutes  time.  Now,  if 
you'll  break  the  line  on  that  pole,  John." 

There  was  a  sound  of  falling  glass,  and 
then  the  new  insulated  line  was  secured  to 
the  old  line;   the  broken  end  fell  to  the 


ground  and  was  abandoned.  For  half  an 
hour  or  more  the  two  were  busy  over  their 
work,  and  then  it  was  finished.  It  was  a 
queer-looking  affair,  and  no  one  would  ever 
guess  where  it  was  or  what  it  was  designed 
to  do.  A  slender  maple-tree  beside  the 
track  had  a  bit  of  bare  copper  wire  (insu- 
lated at  the  ends),  hung  upright,  in  its 
branches.  Near  by  stood  a  large  oak-tree, 
also  having  a  few  feet  of  wire  secured  hori- 
zontally to  its  branches.  From  the  slender 
maple  a  wire  ran  to  the  old  telegraph  line. 
From  the  old  oak  our  young  people  quickly 
ran  a  new  line  through  the  woods  by  simply 
tacking  it  up  out  of  sight  in  the  trees. 

Then  they  came  to  the  wooden  bridge 
where  the  town  road  crossed  the  stream. 
It  took  but  a  few  moments  to  tack  the  insu- 
lated wire  to  the  under  side  of  one  of  the 
string-pieces  well  out  of  sight,  and  then 
they  struck  off  into  the  deep  woods  again. 

Three  hours  later  they  struck  the  railroad, 
and  found  the  old  wire  some  distance 
beyond  the  station  up  the  line.  Again  the 
two-legged  cat  ran  up  the  pole,  and  there 
v/as  a  sound  of  breaking  glass.  The  old 
wire  fell  doAvn  among  the  bushes,  and  the 
new  one  was  joined  to  the  piece  still  on  the 
line.  A  short  time  after,  two  young  people 
with  rather  light  bundles  and  very  light 
hearts  gi'avely  walked  into  the  station  and 
then  soberly  went  to  their  dinner.  That 
night  two  mysterious  figures  flitted  about 
the  platform  of  the  deserted  station.  One 
like  a  cat  ran  up  the  dusky  poles,  and  the 
other  unrolled  a  bit  of  copper  wire.  There 
was  a  sound  of  boring,  and  two  minute 
wires  were  pushed  through  a  hole  in  the 
window  frame.  The  great  scientific  enter- 
prise was  finished. 

CHAPTER  V. 
ALMOST  TELESCOPED. 

It  was  very  singular  how  absent-minded 
and  inattentive  the  operator  was  that  day. 
She  sent  that  order  for  flowers  to  the  butch- 
er, and  Mrs.  Robinson's  message  about  the 
baby's  croup  went  to  old  Mr.  Stimmins,  the 
bachelor  lodger  at  the  gambrel-roofed  house. 

No  wonder  she  was  disturbed.  Would 
the  new  line  work  ?  Would  her  pickle-jar 
battery  be  strong  enough  for  such  a  great 
circuit  ?  Would  John  be  able  to  close  it  ? 
The  people  began  to  assemble  for  the  train. 
The  clock  pointed  to  the  hour  for  its  ar- 
rival. 

"  He  cometh  not,"  she  said.  Then  she 
began  to  be  a  little   tearful.     The  people 


60 


LIOnTNING   FLASHER 


all  left  the  waiting-room  and  went  out 
on  the  platform,  and  the  place  was  de- 
serted and  silent.  She  listened  intently. 
There  was  nothing,  save  the  murmur  of  the 
voices  outside,  and  the  irritating  tick  of  the 
clock. 

Suddenly,  with  startling  distinctness,  the 
bell  rang  clear  and  loud  in  the  echoing 
room.  With  a  little  cry  of  delight  she  put 
on  her  dainty  hat  and  ran  in  haste  out  upon 
the  platform.  The  idle  people  stared  at  her 
flushed  and  rosy  face,  and  she  turned  away 
and  walked  toward  the  water-tank.  Not  a 
thing  in  sight  ?     What  did  it  mean  ? 

Ah!  The  whistle  broke  loud  and  clear 
on  the  cool,  crisp  air,  and  59  appeared 
round  the  curve  in  the  woods.  The  splen- 
did monster  slid  swiftly  up  to  her  feet  and 
paused. 

"  Perfect,  John!  Perfect!  It  works  to  a 
charm." 

With  a  spring  she  reached  the  cab  and 
sat  dowTi  on  the  fireman's  seat. 

"  Blessed  if  I  could  tell  what  he  was  going 
to  do,"  said  Dick.  "  He  told  me  about  it. 
Awful  bright  idea!  You  see,  he  laid  the 
poker  on  the  tender  brake  there,  and  it  hit 
the  tree  slam,  and  I  saw  the  wires  touch. 
It  was  just  prime!" 

The  happy  moments  sped,  and  59  groaned 
and  slowly  departed,  while  Kate  stood  on  the 
platform,  her  face  wreathed  in  smiles  and 
white  steam. 

So  the  lovers  met  each  day,  and  none 
knew  how  she  was  made  aware  of  his  ap- 
proach with  such  absolute  certainty.  Science 
applied  to  love,  or  rather  love  applied  to 
science,  can  move  the  world. 

Two  whole  weeks  passed,  and  then  there 
suddenly  arrived  at  the  station,  late  one 
evening,  a  special  with  the  directors'  car  at- 
tached. The  honorable  directors  were  hun- 
gry— they  always  are — and  would  pause  on 
their  journey  and  take  a  cup  of  tea  and  a 
bit  of  supper.  The  honorables  and  their 
wives  and  children  filled  the  station,  and 
the  place  put  on  quite  a  gala  aspect.  As 
for  Kate,  she  demurely  sat  in  her  den,  book 
in  hand,  and  over  its  unread  pages  admired 
the  gay  party  in  the  brightly  lighted  waiting- 
room. 

Suddenly,  with  furious  rattle  her  electric 
bell  sprang  into  noisy  life.  Every  spark  of 
color  left  her  face,  and  her  book  fell  with  a 
dusty  slam  to  the  floor.  What  was  it? 
What  did  it  mean  ?     Who  rang  it  ? 

With  afirighted  face  she  burst  from  her 
office  and  brushed  through  the  astonished 
people  and  out  upon  the  snow-covered  plat- 


form. There  stood  the  directors'  train  upon 
the  track  of  the  on-coming  engine. 

"  The  conductor !  Where  is  he  ?  Oh ! 
sir !  Start !  Start !  Get  to  the  siding.  The 
express !     The  express  is  coming ! " 

With  a  cry  she  snatched  a  lantern  from  a 
brakeman's  hand,  and  in  a  flash  was  gone. 
They  saw  her  light  pitching  and  dancing 
through  the  darkness,  and  they  were  lost 
in  wonder  and  amazement.  The  girl  is 
crazy !  No  train  is  due  now !  There  can 
be  no  danger.     She  must  be 

Ah!  that  horrible  whistle.  Such  a  wild 
shriek  on  the  winter's  night!  The  men 
sprang  to  the  train,  and  the  women  and  chil- 
dren fled  in  frantic  terror  in  every  direction. 

"  Run  for  yoiu-  lives,"  screamed  the  con- 
ductor.    "  There's  a  smash-up  coming !" 

A  short,  sharp  scream  from  the  whistle. 
The  head-light  gleamed  on  the  snow-cov- 
ered track,  and  there  was  a  mad  rush  of 
sliding  wheels  and  the  gigantic  engine  roar- 
ed like  a  demon.  The  great  59  slowly 
drew  near  and  stopped  in  the  woods.  A 
hundred  heads  looked  out,  and  a  stalwart 
figure  leaped  down  from  the  engine  and 
ran  on  into  the  bright  glow  of  the  head- 
light. 

"Kate!" 

"Oh!  John,  I 


She  fell  into  his  arms  senseless  and  white, 
and  the  lantern  dropped  from  her  nerveless 
hand. 

They  took  her  up  tenderly  and  bore  her 
into  the  station-house  and  laid  her  upon 
the  sofa  in  the  "  ladies'  room."  With  hushed 
voices  they  gathered  round  to  offer  aid  and 
comfort.  Who  was  she  ?  How  did  she  save 
the  train  ?  How  did  she  know  of  its  ap- 
proach ? 

"  She  is  my  daughter,"  said  the  old  sta- 
tion-master.    "  She  tends  the  telegraph." 

The  President  of  the  Raihroad,  in  his  gold- 
bowed  spectacles,  drew  near.  One  grand 
lady  in  silk  and  satin  pillowed  Kate's  head 
on  her  breast.  They  all  gathered  near  to  see 
if  she  revived.  She  opened  her  eyes  and 
gazed  about  dreamily,  as  if  in  search  of 
something. 

"  Do  you  wish  anything,  my  dear?"  said 
the  President,  taking  her  hand. 

"  Some  water,  if  you  please,  sir ;  and  I 
want — I  want " 

They  handed  her  some  wine  in  a  silver 
goblet.  She  sipped  a  little,  and  then  looked 
among  the  strange  faces  as  if  in  search  of 
some  one. 

"  Are  you  looking  for  any  one,  Miss  ?  " 

"  Yes — no — it  is  no  matter.     Thank  you, 


KA2E. 


61 


ma'am,  I  feel  better.  I  sprained  my  foot 
on  the  sleepers  when  I  ran  down  the  track. 
It  is  not  severe,  and  I'll  sit  up." 


"she  fell  into   his    arms   senseless   and  white." 

They  were  greatly  pleased  to  see  her  re- 
cover, and  a  quiet  buzz  of  conversation  filled 
the  room.  How  did  she  know  it  ?  How 
could  she  tell  the  special  was  chasing  us  ? 
Good  Heavens!  if  she  had  not  known  it, 
what  an  awful  loss  of  life  there  would  have 
been;  it  was  very  careless  in  the  superintend- 
ent to  follow  our  train  in  such  a  reckless 
manner. 

"You  feel  better,  my  dear,"  said  the 
President. 

"  Yes,  sir,  thank  you.  I'm  sure  I'm  thank- 
ful. I  knew  John — I  mean  the  engine  was 
coming." 

"  You  cannot  be  more  grateful  than  w^e 
are  to  you  for  averting  such  a  disastrous  col- 
lision." 

*'  I'm  sure,  I  am  pleased,  sir.  I  never 
thought  the  telegraph " 

She  paused  abruptly. 

"What  telegraph?" 

"  I'd  rather  not  tell,  sir." 

"  But  you  will  tell  us  how  you  knew  the 
engine  was  coming?" 

"  Must  you  know  ?  " 

*'  We  ought  to  know  in  order  to  reward 
you  properly." 

She  put  up  her  hand  in  a  gesture  of  re- 
fusal, and  was  silent.  The  President  and 
directors  consulted  together,  and  two  of 
them  came  to  her  and  briefly  said  that  they 
would  be  glad  to  know  how  she  had  been 
made  aware  of  the  approaching  danger. 


"  Well,  sir,  if  John  is  willing,  I  will  tell  you 
all." 

John  Mills,  engineer,  was  called,  and  he 
came  in,  cap  in  hand,  and  the  entire  com- 
pany gathered  round  in  the  greatest  eager- 
ness. 

Without  the  slightest  affectation,  she  put 
her  hand  on  John's  grimy  arm,  and  said  : 

"  Shall  I  tell  them,  John  ?  They  wish  to 
know  about  it.  It  saved  their  lives,  they 
say." 

"  And  mine,  too,"  said  John,  reverently. 
"  You  had  best  tell  them,  or  let  me." 

She  sat  down  again,  and  then  and  there 
John  explained  how  the  open  circuit  line 
had  been  built,  how  it  was  used,  and  frankly 
told  why  it  had  been  erected. 

Never  did  story  create  profounder  sensa- 
tion. The  gentlemen  shook  hands  with  him, 
and  the  President  actually  kissed  her  for  the 
Company.  A  real  Corporation  kiss,  loud 
and  hearty.  The  ladies  fell  upon  her  neck, 
and  actually  cried  over  the  splendid  girl. 
Even  the  children  pulled  her  dress,  and  put 
their  arras  about  her  neck,  and  kissed  away 
the  happy  tears  that  covered  her  cheeks. 

Poor  child !  She  was  covered  with  con- 
fusion, and  knew  not  what  to  say  or  do,  and 
looked  imploringly  to  John.  He  drew  near, 
and  proudly  took  her  hand  in  his,  and  she 
brushed  away  the  tears  and  smiled. 

The  gentlemen  suddenly  seemed  to  have 
found  something  vastly  interesting  to  talk 
about,  for  they  gathered  in  a  knot  in  the  cor- 
ner of  the  room.  Presendy  the  President 
said  aloud : 

"  Gentlemen  and  Directors,  you  must 
pardon  me,  and  I  trust  the  ladies  will  do  the 
same,  if  I  call  you  to  order  for  a  brief  matter 
of  business." 

There  was  a  sudden  hush,  and  the  room, 
now  packed  to  suffocation,  was  painfully 
quiet. 

"  The  Secretary  will  please  take  minutes 
of  this  meeting." 

The  Secretary  sat  down  at  Kate's  desk,  and 
then  there  was  a  little  pause. 

"Mr.  President!" 

Every  eye  was  turned  to  a  comer  where 
a  gray-haired  gentleman  had  moimted  a 
chair. 

"  Mr.  President." 

"  Mr.  Graves,  director  for  the  State,  gentle- 
men." 

"  I  beg  leave,  sir,  to  offer  a  resolution." 

Then  he  began  to  read  from  a  slip  of 
paper. 

"  Whereas,  John  Mills,  engineer  of  engine 
Number  59,  of  this  railway  line,  erected  a 


62 


LIOnTNING  FLASHES. 


private  telegraph ;  and,  whereas  he,  witli  the 
assistance  of  the  telegraph  operator  of  this 
station  (I  leave  a  blank  for  her  name),  used 
the  said  line  without  the  consent  of  this 
Company,  and  for  other  than  railway  business : 

"It  is  resolved  that  he  be  suspended 
permanently  from  his  position  as  engineer, 
and  that  the  said  operator  be  requested  to 
resign " 

A  murmur  of  disapprobation  filled  the 
room,  but  the  President  commanded  silence, 
and  the  State  Director  went  on. 

" resign  her  place. 

"  It  is  further  resolved,  and  is  hereby 
ordered,  that  the  said  John  Mills  be  and  is 
appointed  chief  engineer  of  the  new  repair 
shops  at  Slawson." 

A  tremendous  cheer  broke  from  the  as- 
sembled company,  and  the  resolution  was 
passed  with  a  shout  of  assent. 

How  it  all  ended  they  never  knew.    It 


seemed  like  a  dream,  and  they  could  not 
believe  it  true  till  they  stood  alone  in  the 
winter's  night  on  the  track  beside  that  glori- 
ous 59.  The  few  cars  the  engine  had  brought 
up  had  been  joined  to  the  train,  and  59  had 
been  rolled  out  on  the  siding.  With  many 
hand-shakings  for  John,  and  hearty  kisses 
for  Kate,  and  a  round  of  parting  cheers  for 
the  two,  the  train  had  sped  away.  The 
idlers  had  dispersed,  and  none  lingered  about 
the  abandoned  station  save  the  lovers.  59 
would  stay  that  night  on  the  siding,  and  they 
had  walked  up  the  track  to  bid  it  a  long 
farewell. 

For  a  few  moments  they  stood  in  the  glow 
of  the  great  lamp,  and  then  he  quietly  put  it 
out,  and  left  the  giant  to  breathe  away  its 
fiery  life  in  gentle  clouds  of  white  steam.  As 
for  the  lovers,  they  had  no  need  of  its  light. 
The  winter's  stars  shone  upon  them,  and  the 
calm  cold  night  seemed  a  paradise  below. 


Out  of  Acfjustmenf, 


A  TELEGRAPn  offlcc,  plain  and  simple, 

Furnished  poorly  and  scant  in  space  ; 
A  youthful  maiden  with  smile  and  dimple, 

Adorning  a  delicate,  winning  face. 
A  single  window  to  light  the  room, 

Its  view  obstructed  by  cars  of  freight ; 
A  depot  dreary,  nor  thrift  nor  bloom. 

But  all  around  a  desolate  state. 

Now  working  her  key  with  might  and  main. 

As  though  "the  current  were  feeble  and  weak, 
Now  closing  the  same  again  and  again. 

As  if  to  let  Patience  whisper  and  speak. 
Adjusting  the  relay  with  hope  in  her  heart, 

Once  more  she  strives  to  accoraplisli  the  deed, 

But  failing,  the  tears  from  her  eyes  quickly 

start,  [freed. 

And  flow  unrestrained  till  her  great  grief  is 

"  Sweet  maid,  why  labor  here  ?"  said  I, 

While  with  pity  my  throbbing  heart  stood 
still ; 
"  Why  stay  out  here  to  languish  and  die. 

When  you  can  know  content  if  you  will. 
Go  to  the  city  and  merry  be  ! 

Go  where  the  currents  and  wires  are  good ! 
Seek  thou  an  office  where  thou  canst  see 

The  beauties  of  nature,  of  river  and  wood. 
The  busy  motion  of  toil  and  pleasure, 

And  of  life's  many  joys  find  a  comforting 
measure." 

Thus  did  I  speak  to  that  fair  gentle  maid, 
As  I  loitered  one  day  near  the  rural  depot. 

Awaiting  the  steam-horse  to  come  down  the 
grade, 
Which  was  now  behind  time  an  hour  or  so, 


Watching  her  face  through  the  little  soiled  pane, 
I  saw  her  despair  and  her  tears  gently  flow. 

And  sympathy  strong  that  I  could  not  restrain 
Led  me  into  the  office  my  comfort  to  show. 

For  I  was  a  knight  of  the  telegraph  key. 
And  knowing  that  currents  when   terribly 
weak 
Beget  a  fell  anguish,  a  dire  misery 
That  pen  can't  portray  nor   human  voice 
speak. 
My  heart  urged  me  forward ;  go  in  there  I 
must. 
And  do  what  I  can  to  offer  relief; 
Perchance  I  could  teach  how  to  gently  adjust. 
And,  if  this  were  the  trouble,  dispel  all  her 
grief. 

"  Pray  dry  thy  sad  tears,  my  dear  little  friend. 
And  let  not  harsh  sorrow  be  stamped  on  thy 
face; 
Invoke  the  bright  angels  from  heaven  to  send 
Pure  smiles  of  bright  joy  thy  sweet  visage 
to  grace ; 
Courage  is  thine  if  patient  you'll  be, 

For  patience  is  courage,  and  courage  is  power, 
Before  it  despair  will  instantly  flee, 
And   your  mind  over    sadness   triumphant 
shall  tpwer," 

The  words  were  scarce  said  when  a  smile  most 
serene 
Appeared  on  her  face,  and  illumined  it  o'er 
Like  a  beautiful  rainbow  that's  oftentimes  seen 
Succeeding  the  rain  drops  which  come  with 
the  shower ; 


GEORGE  WASniNOTO^  CRIBBS  TELEGRAM. 


63 


And  the  sweet  glance  she  gave  me  of  gratitude's 
trust, 
As  she  raised  up  her  eyes   and  gazed  softly 
in  mine, 
Was  so  tempting  and  winsome  that  kiss  her  I 
must. 
And  our  lips  met  together  on  love's  holy  shrine. 

This  tribute  to  love  had  scarcely  been  paid — 

We  still  stood  together  in  ardent  embrace — 
When  puflQng  and  screeching  down  over  the  grade 

The  steam-horse  rushed  in  in  a  moment  of  space ; 
A  ruddy  cheeked  brakeman  leaped  out  from  the 
car, 

His  ej^es  flashing  anger,  a  cane  in  his  hand, 
And,  quick  as  the  flash  of  a  twinkling  star. 

Right  there  in  the  oflice  before  us  did  stand ; ' 

Then  speaking  to  me  in  a  loud  angry  tone, 

His  cane  raised  aloft  just  over  my  head. 
"  What  brought  you  in  here  with  my  girl  all  alone, 

Embracing,  and  kissing,  and  loving?"  he  said. 
"  This  girl  aod  m}^self  have  long  been  engaged  ; 

And  for  so  heinous  an  insult  I'll  have  your  vile 
life;" 
Ye  gods !  that  young  brakeman  was  greatly  en- 
raged, 

For  I  had  been  kissing  his  dear  future  wife. 

As  for  me,  there  I  stood,  not  a  word  could  I 
speak 
To  explain  a  perplexing  position  like  this; 
I  acted  dejected — exceedingly  meek. 
But  my  fears  quickly  fled  when  that  fair  gentle 
Miss, 


Addressing  her  lover  with  faltering  tone 
Said,  "  Harry,  my  love,  pray  let  me  explain 

The  reason  this  youth  was  Avith  me  alone, 
Embracing  and  loving  again  and  again. 

"  You  remember  I  told  you  a  short  time  ago. 

Of  a  darling  young  cousin  I  had  in  the  West  ?  " 
"  Why  yes,"  he  replied,  "you  did  tell  me  so," 

"  Well,  this  is  the  ono,"  said  she,  laughing  with 
zest, 
"  And  now  on  the  way  to  his  old  native  town, 

He  stopped  here  to  see  me  an  hour  or  so. 
Now,  Harry,  my  love,  take   your    horrid  cane 
down, 

This  youth  is  my  cousin,  but  you  are  my  beau." 

His  anger  had  vanished,  his  cane  had  come  down, 

But  not  on  my  head  as  I  tremblingly  feared ; 
A  smile  had  supplanted  the  harsh  angry  frown, 

And  instead  of  abuse  a  kind  greeting  appeared, 

He  grasped  my  hand  quickly,  and  shook  it  with 

zeal,  [side ; 

While  the  fair  maid  most  lovingh'^  stood  by  his 
I  was  saved  from  a  caning,  but  could  not  help  feel 

That  the  angel  beside  him  had  fearfully  lied." 

As  we  parted  that  day  she  whisperingly  said, 

"  You  adjusted  my  relay,  assauging  my  tears. 
And  I  in  return  have  reciprocated. 

For  I  soon  "  adjusted"  your  troubles  and  fears. 
Your  work  was  performed  by  the  rules  of  the  line 

I  copied  from  you  with  the  best  of  success. 
My  work,  too,  was  done  by  the  rules  of  the  lyin\ 

And  saved  you  and  me  from  great  trouble  I 
guess." 


George  Washinfjton  Cribb's  Telegram, 


It  was  a  small  messenger  boy  that  took  out  the 
midnight  signal  reports  that  night,  and  they  told 
him  to  hurry,  to  run  and  deliver  them  at  the  Observ- 
er's office  at  No.  —  South  Second  Street.  The 
promising  little  fellow  did  run,  ran  all  the  way — 
with  the  exception  of  a  slight  deviation  in  the  direc- 
tion of  his  home  to  partake  of  a  little  lunch — but, 
true  to  his  undying  aspirations  as  the  telegrapher  of 
the  future,  he  ran  to  the  wrong  place,  and  brought 
up  at  No.  —  South  Street— the  correct  number  but 
the  wrong  street.  This  place,  instead  of  being  a 
Government  weather  office,  proved  to  be  a  cellar 
occupied  by  a  colored  gentleman  of  some  114  years, 
or  less,  by  the  name  of  George  Washington  Cribbs. 
That  proud  aristocrat  being  temporarily  absent,  to- 
gether with  the  other  dusky  members  of  his  subter- 
ranean household— probably  on  a  nocturnal  foraging 
expedition — and  everyone  thereabouts  assuring  the 
small  boy  that  that  was  undoubtedly  the  proper 
place,  he  pushed  the  weather  reports — which,  as  all 
operators  know,  are  written  in  a  most  outlandish 
cipher— under  the  aged  George  Washington  Cribbs' 


door,  and  looking  again  at  the  number  thereof  to 
satisfy  his  conscience,  departed. 

Now,  if  there  is  any  one  thing  which  pleases  a 
colored  man  more  than  another,  next  to  carrying  a 
tin  watch  with  a  California  brass  chain  attached,  it 
is  the  receip!;  of  a  letter.  It  will  thus  be  understood 
that  when  George  Washington  Cribbs,  aged  114 
years  or  less,  returned  home  at  3  a.m.,  with  a  recent- 
ly deceased  chicken  slung  over  his  shoulder,  that  he 
was  exceedingly  gratified  to  find  the  United  States 
Signal  Service  official  weather  reports  awaiting  him ; 
and  it  was  only  after  many  an  ineffectual  attempt  to 
decipher  the  same  that  the  broad  grin  vanished  from 
his  face  and  made  way  for  a  very  forlorn  expression, 
as  his  natural  suspicions  of  a  horrible  fate  in  store 
for  him  dawned  upon  his  mind.  Could  it  be  the 
bull-dozers  ? 

It  was  just  previous  to  the  election,  and  George 
Washington  Cribbs  not  only  belonged  to  a  colored 
political  club,  but  was  also  president  thereof,  and 
despite  his  advanced  age,  had  registered  a  public 
vow  that,  should  Tilden  be  elected,  on  tte  morn 


64 


LIGnTNING  FLASHES. 


■which  followed  such  a  night  Mrs.  ^Martha  Washing- 
ton Cribbs  should  wear  the  widow's  weeds.  Al- 
though George  was  a  very  humble  individual  to  the 
world  at  large,  he  appeared  before  his  political 
friends  at  the  club  in  hii  official  capacity  as  "  The 
Grand  E.xasperated  Quadrilateral  (the  Chair")— quad- 
rilateral being  peculiarly  symbolic  of  his  eminent 
position  as  "  tlie  chair,"  and  exasperated  doing  duty 
as  a  standing  menace  to  all  inquisitive  members  of 
the  club  who  might  take  issue  with  their  exalted 
Grand  Exasperated  Quadrilateral  on  the  subject  of 
official  finances. 

At  the  first  blush  one  would  hardly  suppose  that 
a  vigorous  nigger  of  such  prominence,  whose  head 
had  successfully  withstood  many  an  uncompromis- 
ing bombardment  of  bludgeons  and  cobble-stones, 
could  be  frightened  with  a  paltry  cipher  message; 
but,  it  must  be  remembered,  that  the  man  who  was 
born  not  for  war  but  to  hoe  the  corn  and  hunt  the 
'possum,  who  would  scoff  at  a  judicial  warrant  for 
his  arrest  for  hen-roost  depredations,  or  who  would 
gaze  with  cynical  disdain  on  a  written  summons  to 
pay  his  tithing  to  the  church,  or  a  tailor's  bill,  or 
any  other  document  which  he  could  understand  and 
point  at  with  the  finger  of  scorn  with  impunity,  is 
totally  annihilated  by  an  ominous  cipher  message 
bearing  all  the  evidence  of  the  bull-dozer's  high  art 
and  fell  determination. 

The  more  George  Washington  Cribbs  tried  to 
make  sense  out  of  that  Signal  report,  the  more  dis- 
pirited did  he  become,  for  he  felt  that  although  there 
might  possibly  be  a  misunderstanding  somewhere, 
there  was  still  something  extremely  evanescent, 
something  unutterably  diaphanous — something  too 
subtle  for  a  mind  of  purely  Simian  origin  to  grapple 
with — in  a  communication  containing  obscure  refer- 
ences to  the  chief  "  Signal  "  office,  etc.,  and  surrep- 
titiously injected  into  his  domicile  at  midnight.  He 
felt  that  a  rational  colored  man,  aged  114  or  less, 
with  a  tender  regard  for  his  own  personal  welfare, 
ought  in  these  troublesome  times  to  draw  the  line 
of  war  risks  somewhere;  and,  therefore,  with  won- 
derful sagacity  he  concluded  to  draw  it  at  such  ob- 
scure and  anonymous  communications  as : 

"  Savannah,  Noiseful,  Alias,  Budge, 
Cabin,  Gimlet,  Earnest,  Glance," 

written  in  the  form  of  blank  verse,  and  thrust  under 
his  door  by  unseen  hands  at  unseasonable  hours. 
No  conscientious  colored  man,  aged  114  or  less,  stag- 
gering under  such  an  official  title  as  the  Grand  Ex- 
a.sperated  Quadrilateral  (the  Chair),  could  be  reason- 
ably expected  to  keep  cool  with  a  White  Leaguer's 
communication  awaiting  him  at  2  A.M.,  since  the 
merit  of  an  undecipherable  note — considered  in  a 
political  sense,  and  pushed  under  a  nigger's  door 
about  election   time— suggests  to  that  "  gemman  " 


the  imperative  necessity  of  an  immediate  trip  west- 
ward— and,  in  most  cases,  a-foot. 

Under  this  view  of  the  case,  at  daybreak,  while  a 
cracked  hand-organ  outside  was  playing  the  Dead 
i\Iarch  in  Saul,  and  other  dirges,  fancying  that  he 
already  heard  the  tat-too  of  Watterson's  drums  and 
the  spontaneous  roar  of  a  hundred  thousand  (un- 
armed) men,  George  resolved  to  commence  his  west- 
ward journey  at  once ;  and  for  the  purpose  of  excit- 
ing no  undue  attention  among  the  higher  classes  of 
the  occidental  regions  —  California,  Oregon,  and 
other  foreign  shores — he  gave  himself  a  cpat  of 
whitewash,  donned  a  cheap  red  shirt  with  pockets, 
and  painted  his  nose  with  a  brilliant  vermilion  pig- 
ment, that  he  might  still  more  resemble  the  abor- 
igines of  those  arid  wastes.  With  scalding  tears 
trickling  o'er  his  calcimined  cheeks,  he  bade  farewell 
to  his  pail  of  lime  and  artist's  brush  ;  his  wife  put 
up  his  lunch  for  the  last  time,  and,  muffled  in  bis 
linen  duster  to  keep  out  the  wintry  blasts,  he  crept 
in  silence  toward  the  region  of  sundown ;  but,  on 
second  thought,  concluded  to  confine  his  operations 
to  groping  through  the  trackless  forests  of  the  24th 
Ward,  rather  than  brave  an  intolerable  existence 
amid  the  monstrous  growing  carrots,  the  colossal 
radishes,  and  the  Herculean  turnips  of  the  Pacific 
coas*;. 

Sorrows— even  the  outcrop  of  bulled  Signal  Ser- 
vice reports — after  the  first  shock  always  purify  us 
and  make  us  bolder  and  nobler;  and  the  sweeping 
flood  which  threatens  to  overwhelm  us  frequently 
brings  down  on  the  breast  of  its  own  irresistible 
torrent  the  floating  log  which  we  clutch  to  save  us. 
It  was  so,  at  least,  with  George  Washington  Cribbs, 
aged  114  or  less,  the  fugitive  Grand  Exasperated 
Quadrilateral  (the  Chair).  He  carried  the  dreaded 
"  threatening  letter  "  in  his  pocket,  and,  one  day,  in 
a  fit  of  reckless  courage,  took  it  to  a  police  station. 
The  Mayor,  who  was  somewhat  of  a  municipal 
plug,  thereupon  issued  a  call  for  a  large  force  of  spe- 
cial police,  and  summoned  an  extra  session  of  City 
Councils ;  and  it  was  only  after  the  document  had 
been  lithographed  for  Forney's  Press  that  it  was  by 
chance  discovered  to  be  a  telegraphic  weather  re- 
port, and  delivered  to  its  proper  destination. 

And  now,  George  Washington  Cribbs,  aged  114  or 
less,  having  resigned  his  position  as  the  Grand  Ex- 
asperated Quadrilateral  (the  Chair),  is  back  at  his 
old  civil  post,  filling  an  important  office  as  janitor 
in  a  Walnut  Street  commercial  house.  He  never 
talks  very  much  about  the  bulldozers,  although  he 
missed  getting  in  his  vote  for  Hayes,  but  when  ques- 
tioned on  the  subject  he  goes  right  on  sweeping  out 
the  vestibule,  and,  without  raising  his  head,  merely 
remarks  that  it  was  a  tolerably  funny  affair,  but  that 
"  those  telegraph  folks  do  everlastingly  mix  things 
up." 


A  JPerilous  Christmas  CourtsJiip; 

OR,    DANGEROUS   TELEGRAPHY. 


I  WAS  walking  leisurely  along  one  of  the 
bustling  streets  in  classic  Cbeapside.  It  was 
noon,  and  the  Aveather  very  pleasant.  A  pa- 
tient crowd  stood  gazing  wonderingly,  and, 
melting  away,  being  renewed  and  recon- 
structed almost  ere  it  dissolved.  There  was 
I,  a  telegraphic  idler  whose  train  had  rushed 
him  too  soon  offieeward,  among  that  ever 
changing  crowd.  I  was  not  "  on  duty  "  at 
the  big  Central  office,  the  Titanic  "  TS,"  for 
half  a  listless  hour;  therefore,  could  I  contem- 
plate with  fellings  of  awe-struck  admiration, 
at  my  ease,  and  never  a-weary,  the  comet-like 
galaxies,  the  brilliant  "  gilded  youth,"  of  all 
asres,  who  cleaved  our  rude  clusters  at  one 
glittering  stroke,  leaving  '•  obscurity  blush- 
ing at  being  seen,"  behind  them  ! 

Perchance  I  was  wishing  that  I  were  such 
an  one  as  that  lofty,  elegant,  and  handsome 
man  with  the  nut-brown  "  Albert  Edward " 
beard,  and  faultless  attire,  who  had  positively 
honored  me  by  approvingly  glancing  ever  and 
anon  at  ray  lounging  figure,  while  comparing 
his  jewelled  chronoscope  Avith  Gog  and  Ma- 
gog's time  piece  ;  when  presto  !  a  flash  of  his 
white  teeth  and  a  merry  brightening  of  his 
clear  blue  eyes  transformed  my  erstwhile 
majestic  ideal  of  grace  and  affluence  into  an 
old  and  dear  friend  of  twelve  years  ago, 
*'  when  we  were  boys  together ; "  the  quon- 
dam crack  telegraph  operator,  and  whilom 
chum  of  mine  in  the  far  north,  Frank  Willis  ! 

"What!  my  Colossus  of  Wires!"— the 
sames  old  cheery  tones  and  hearty  greeting — 
"after  all  these  years  to  come  in  contact 
within  these  antique  precincts  bounded  by 
the  sound  of  Bow  Bells  !  It  is  meet  and  fit- 
ting, Jim,  old  boy,"  (that  was  me,)  "  that  a 
festive  occasion  like  this  should  be  becoming- 
ly baptized.  Man  was  made  to  imbibe,  Jim. 
Let  us  absorb  ! "  And,  despite  my  vacillating 
and  weak-kneed  objections,  in  an  adjacent 
caravansery  of  ostentatious  exterior  and  fini- 
cal decoration  within,  we  did  absorb. 

Preliminary  salutations  and  hasty  but  hil- 


arious reminiscences  of  "good  times"  gone 
by  Avere  exchanged  over  fluids  costly  and 
exhilarating,  until  my  impending  "duty" 
compelled  me  to  reluctantly  say  adieu. 

"  Well,  if  I  let  you  go  now,  Jim,  you  must 
solemnly  pledge  yourself  in  this  sparkling 
bumper  of  the  rosy  that  you  will  dine  Avith 
me  en  famille  to-morrow,  Christmas  Eve — 
blessings  be  on  its  snoAvy  head — when  I  Avill 
relate  unto  thee,  dear  boy,  things  that  you 
wot  not  of,  to  account  for  my  sudden  and 
mysterious  departure  from  you,  telegraphy, 
and  '  dear  old  Scotland '  just  twelve  Avinters 


ago. 


I  "took  the  oath,"  fervently  and  rcA'eren- 
tially — in  a  tumbler ! 

This  is  Avhat  I  heard  in  reply  to  my  anxious 
solicitations,  next  day,  when  the  cloth  was 
removed  and  the  liquids  sparkled  : 

"  When  last  I  saw  your  rcA-erend  features, 
my  James,  things  were  radically  different 
Avith  us ;  with  me  in  particular.  I  enjoyed, 
aye,  and  felt  proud  of,  the  laA'ish  stipend  of 
eighteen  Aveekly  shillings  Avhich  the  '  Opposi- 
tion and  Informal  Telegraph  Company  (Strict- 
ly Limited)'  generously  bestowed  upon  my 
dot  and  dashing  labors.  Many  an  evening 
'  prowl '  have  you  and  I  enjoyed,  Jim,  among 
the  saloons  of  gay  Glasburg,  during  those 
heedlesshours  of  our  beardless  youth,  in  atoo, 
too  successful  endeavor  to  spend  half  our  re- 
spective salaries  (including  extra)  in  as  many 
hours  as  it  had  taken  days  to  earn  them  ! 
We  were  impecunious,  but  happy ;  hard- 
worked,  but  content ;  dissipated,  but  unmind- 
ful of  the  world's  care  and  troubles. 

"  You  Avill  remember  that  we  were  the 
closest  chums,  most  particluar  '  pals,'  with  no 
secret  or  reserve  betAveen  us  up  to  the  time 
of  my  holidays  in  the  year  1864.  On  my  re- 
turn, a  change  had  crept  over  our  relations 
somehow.  You  Avere  the  same,  Jim ;  ever 
frank,  open,  and  careless.  It  Avas  I  Avho  Avas 
altered;  not  sad,  not  depressed,  but  gi-ave, 
reserved,  and  reformed.     A  short   fortnight 


CG 


LIGUTNING   FLASHES. 


had  worked  that  change.  You,  not  unnat- 
urally, questioned  and  chaffed  me,  railing  me, 
good  naluredly,  no  doubt,  but  unconsciously 
touching  me  on  tender  ])oints  which  'riled' 
me  considerably.  A  coolness  arose  between 
us,  who  liad  been  inseparable  friends  till 
then,  and  you  never  knew  what  had  happened 
to  me  to  produce  such  a  transformation.  I 
liad  been  in  London,  during  those  two  event- 
ful weeks,  and  I  had  met  an  angel.  To  en- 
counter such  a  seraphic  being  sojourning 
upon  our  coarse  earth  for  a  brief  span,  and  to 
fall  inextricably  in  love  with  her,  were  to  rne 
then  synonymous  terms.  She  appeared  to 
me  first  in  a  visit  I  paid  to  the  [main 
office,  in  London,  the  day  after  my  arrival. 
Being  shown  in  the  instrument  room,  as  I 
wished  to  speak  to  you  on  the  Glasburg 
wire,  I  was  led,  nervous  and  bashful,  through 
rows  of  tittering  and  whispering  young  lady 
telegraphers,  who  seemed  to  have  no  object 
on  earth  second  to  that  of  rendering  a  pro- 
vincial youth  awkward  and  shy.  Arriving 
at '  Gb '  wire,  my  gaucherie  forsook  me  as  if 
by  magic.  The  lady  seated  at  the  key  burst 
upon  my  dazed  senses  like  a  vision  of  tran- 
scendent glory  and  heavenly  beauty.  Prob- 
ably she  would  not  seem  so  to  you,  skeptical 
James,  nor  perhaps  to  other  men,  but  to  me 
she  was  everything  lovely  that  imagination 
could  depict — she  was  my  beau-ideal. 

*  Her  Hashing;  dark  eyes  smiled  upon  me, 
Two  ripe,  poulini^  iijis  lisped  my  name, 
Bui  her  sweetness  and  innocence  won  me ; 
Those  charms  that  will  never  grow  tame.' 

*'  You  will  observe  I  grow  poetical  over 
the  recollection.  Weil,  I  liave  felt  so  ever 
since  when  I  reflect  upon  that  meeting.  But 
let  us  abbreviate,  as  we  used  to  say  on  the  wire. 
It  turned  out  that  she  was  the  usual  opera- 
tor at  our  London  wire,  whom,  you_  may  re- 
member, Ave  could  seldom  tempt  into  talking. 
Unlike  most  other  telegraphic  ladies,  she  did 
not  seem  to  care  to  '  do  a  flirt '  on  the  wire. 
Violet  Graeme  was  her  name,  you  will  recol- 
lect. "Well,  ere  the  first  week  had  expired, 
I  had  so  far  improved  our  slight  '  wire '  ac- 
quaintance as  to  get  an  introduction  to  her 
family ;  and  before  that  memorable  fortnight 


had  all  too  soon  come  to  an  end,  we  were  en- 
gaged, Jim,  and  I  then  had  but  one  aim  in  life  : 
to  work,  to  save,  to  study — so  that  I  might 
attain  that  position  in  which  I  could  claim 
my  sweet  girl-lover  of  seventeen  summers  as 
my  own — my  wife.  When  I  returned,  sedate, 
but  not  unhappy,  to  the  Glasburg  end  of 
Violet's  wire,  such  a  burning  stream  of  affec- 
tion,  solicitude,  and  sentiment  flowed  over 
that  sense4ess  iron  thread,  when  not  ruthless- 
ly interrupted  by  common-place  dispatches, 
that  I  often  thought,  when  our  words  grew 
warmer  than  usual,  that  the  wire  might  posi- 
tively meli,  and  so  cut  the  only  link  that 
bound  us  in  love  together !  That  link  was 
over  four  hundred  miles  long,  as  you  know, 
old  man,  and  yet  we  seemed  as  near  to  each 
other  as  if  'twere  only  a  clothes  line  ! 

"  Our  correspondence  went  on  thus,  by 
letter  and  telegraph,  growing  sweeter  and 
more  tender  each  day  until  Christmas  Day 
turned  up  ;  cold,  wet,  and  dreary  outside  in 
the  slush  and  rain ;  slow  and  miserable 
enough  to  me  as  I  sat  in  the  office  alone, 
with  one  small  messenger  dozing  in  the  ante- 
room. Our  London  main  office  had  been 
closed  all  day  except  for  an  hour  or  so  in  the 
mornincr  and  again  in  the  afternoon,  so  that 
there  not  being  any  ladies  on  duty,  I  had  no 
chance  of  indulging  in  my  daily  delight,  my 
diurnal  joy,  of  a  chat  with  my  little  Violet. 

"  Of  course,  in  Scotland,  we  were  unholy 
enough  to  keep  open  from  morning  till  night, 
yet  with  a  reduced  staft';  and  I  Avas  the  un- 
lucky wight  who  had  'drawn'  the  lonely 
late  duty.  My  soft-hearted  little  sweetheart 
had  sympathized  with  and  mourned  over  my 
sad  lot  the  previous  day,  and  tenderly  wished 
she  could  have  come  and  shared  it  with  me. 
I  sat  there  about  eight  in  the  evening,  sor- 
rowfully wondering  if  my  darling  was  en- 
joying herself  at  the  grand  Christmas  party 
her  people  were  holding,  when  the  London 
instrument,  which  liad  laid  inert  and  silent 
nearly  all  that  quiet  day,  to  my  intense 
wonderment  and  surprised  delight  suddenly 
chirruped  forth  '  F.'  Why,  that  was  our 
private  signal !     Could  it  be  my  darling  at 


A  PEBILOVS  CHRISTMAS  COURTSHIP. 


67 


the  other  end  of  the  wire,  aud,  if  so,  how  on 
cartli  came  she  tlicre  ?  The  very  huge 
building,  on  the  very  higliest  story  of  which 
the  headquarters  of  the  O.  and  I.  Telegraph 
Company  were  situated,  was  shut  up  and 
sealed,  as  it  were,  from  top  to  bottom. 
While  I  hesitated,  bewildered,  again  the  in- 
strument clicked  out  sharply:  '  F,  F,  are 
you  there  ? '  It  was  no  illusion  !  It  must  be 
my  Violet.  I  sprang  to  the  key,  and,  giving 
our  confidential  countersign,  'V,'  tapped 
back,  hurriedly :  '  Can  tliat  be  )'ou,  darling 
mine,  and  Avhat  good  fairy  has  borne  you  to 
my  distracted  loneliness  ? ' 

"  Sweetly,  but  a  little  nervously,  came  back 
the  response : 

" '  Oh,  yes,  dear  Frank,  it's  your  little  girl 
herself!  Are  you  not  paralyzed  with  fright 
and  astonishment  ?  I  could  not  bear  to  mix 
in  the  gay  and  festive  throng  while  my  poor 
boy  was  sitting  lamenting  and  sad,  perhaps 
jealous,  all  liy  himself!  So,  I  annexed  my 
younger  brother,  slipped  out,  and  rattled  off 
to  Belham  Buildings  in  a  cab.  Then  I  bribed 
the  burly  porter,  who  was  fast  asleep,  and 
had  to  be  roused  up  by  hard  knocks,  to  lend 
me  the  key  and  give  me  a  light.  John  is  down- 
stairs propitiating  the  porter,  and  here  I  am 
alone  and  rather  terrified,  but  pleased  as 
Punch  to  give  you  a  Christmas  surprise ! ' 

"You  may  guess,  my  dear  .Jim,  that  I  was 
in  the  seventh  heaven  of  delight  at  reading 
this,  which  I  did  off  the  Morse  instrument 
without  letting  the  paper  run.  My  heart 
bounded  fondly  forth  to  that  courageous  girl 
of  mine,  j^?e<^Ye,  but  plucky,  and  true-hearted 
as  she  was  pretty.  I  hammered  back,  all 
aglow  with  love  and  rapturous  excitement : 

" '  My  own  brave  little  heroine  !  may  every 
blessing  descend  on  your  lovely  little  head  ! 
I  am  as  happy  now,  my  darling,  as  I  was 
wretched  before.  But  I  do  hope,  Violet, 
that  you  have  run  no  danger  from  this  un- 
precedented visit.  Whatever  should  I  do  if 
anything  should  happen  to  you,  dearest, 
through  your  love  and  kindness  ?  ' 

"  '  Oh,  there  is  no  fear,  Frankie  ;  I  am  not 
afraid  of  ghosts,  and  there  is  not  a  soul  in 


this  vast  edifice  but  myself,  my  brother,  and 
the  big  watchman  ;  so  how  can  there  l)e 
danger,  dear?  Oh,  I  forgot  to  wisli  you  the 
complihient:*  of  the  season;  I  do  so  now, 
dearest  Frank,  and  hope  you  will  spend  a 
very  merry  Christmas  and  a  happy  New 
Yeai*.  There,  you  naughty  boy,  you  ought 
to  have  said  it  to  me  first ! ' 

'"Ah,  you  little  rogue,  you  didn't  give  me 
time,  frightening  a  fellow  out  of  his  wits  ! 
But,  liere  goes,  darling  mine,  may  you  spend 
— and  I  hope  you  are  now  experiencing — the 
very  merriest  of  merry  Christ — .' 

"  Here,  to  my  surprise,  I  was  violently  in- 
terrupted. A  tremulous  line,  ending  in  a  series 
of  unconnected  dashes  and  dots  that  seemed 
to  shiver  on  the  armature,  just  as  if  the  hand 
that  held  the  key  wavered  and  shook  with 
some  strong  emotion,  and  endeavored  vainly 
to  form  characters  almost  mechanically,  Avas 
all  that  appeared  on  the  instrument ;  then 
the  line  went  off  and  the  instrument  was 
silent. 

"  Struck  with  involuntary  terror,  I  called 
'  V '  several  times.  No  reply.  What  could 
be  the  matter?  Perhaps  the  wire  had  got 
'  in  trouble.'  That  would  be  annoying,  cer- 
tainly, but  immeasurably  better  than  any 
danger  in  that  lonesome  five-storied  building 
to  my  beloved. 

"  Again  I  tried  :    ^ 

" '  V,  V,  are  you  there,  dear  ?  Speak  but 
one  word  if  you  hear  me.' 

"  Almost  with  a  shriek  the  trembling  ar- 
mature, after  a  second's  pause,  jerkingly 
said : 

"  '^Help  ! — Frank — darling — help  !  Two — 
men — burglars — at — the — outer'^door.  I- — 
have— fastened — it — hut  — th  ey — are — hreaJc- 
ing  — it  — open.  Oh —  Heavens — no — one — 
can — hear — my — screayns  ! ' 

"  Oh  !  my  God,  I  hope  you  will  never  feel 
as  I  felt  then,  old  friend.  My  brain  reeled ; 
I  shouted  aloud  in  frenzy.  I  could  not  see 
the  key  for  the  blood  that  blinded  my  eyes. 
Sta2rG:erin<r  like  a  drunken  man  with  the 
world  whirling  around  me,  I  groped  wildly 
for  the  ke}^,  and  was  about  to  say,  I  know 


68 


LIOHTNINO  FLASHES. 


not  what,  in  niy  mad,  helpless  agony,  when 
again  the  brass  knell  pealed  aloud.  Oh  ! 
Jim,  50  wailingly — 

"  '■Tliey — say — they — will — kill — 7ne.  I— 
can — hold — out — short — titne — yet — but — am 
too — hoarse — to — scrt'a7n — 7iow.  Oh — helj) — 
me — my — oioi — Frank  ! ' 

"  Direct  from  Heaven  must  have  come  the 
sudden  thought  that  inspired  me  then. 
Swiftly  tapping  to  my  sorely  beleaguered 
darling  comfort  and  hope : 

"  '  Courage,  my  love.  Barricade  yourself 
in.     I  send  help.' 

"  I  rushed,  hatless,  across  the  muddy 
streets  to  the  Voltaic  Company's  ,  office, 
dashed  into  the  instrument  room,  seized  the 
key  with  which  a  busy  operator  was  sending 
to  London — the  big  company  kept  their  office 
open  all  night — and  crying  lo  the  astounded 
operators, '  Don't  stop  me  for  Heaven's  sake ! 
This  is  to  save  life  ! '  I  sent,  fiercely  and 
distinctly,  the  following  message  to  London  : 

"  'I— am —  Willis —  of — the  —  Oppositioti. 
Murder — being — com.mitted — in — our — maiii 
office.  For  —  the  —  love — of—  God  —  run — 
over — like — lightning.     Take — policeman.^ 

**  A  flurried  '  all  right'  being  returned,  madly 
I  darted,  heedless  of  all  inquiries,  back  to  my 
office,  fervently  praying  that  aid  might  not 
arrive  too  late.  Oh  !  if  she  could  only  hold 
out  for  three  swift  minutes  longer — for  the 
Voltaic  office  was  not  two  blocks  distant. 

*'  I  had  left  the  paper  of  the  Morse  instru- 
ment running.  I  feverishly  referred  to  the 
slip.  '  Merciful  Heavens  !  she  is  lost,'  I 
groaned  aloud.  On  the  paper  ribbon  were 
the  words,  formed  of  maimed,  halting  char- 
acters, as  from  a  dying  hand : 

"  "-My — Frank  ! — good-by  !  They — have 
—forced —  the —  door  !  I —  will  — resi — .' ' 
Then  a  long  blank  slip. 


"Forgetful  of  the  four  hundred  miles 
which  separated  me  from  the  cruel  wretches 
who  threatened  all  I  held  dear,  I  desperately 
shook  the  fatal  instrument  in  a  paroxysm 
of  impotent  rage,  and  fell  swooning  head- 
long on  the  floor. 

"How  long  I  remained  in  that  comatose 
state  I  can  not  say. 

"  A  cherry  call  of  '  Gb '  on  the  London 
instrument  aroused  me.  I  answered  as  one 
in  a  dream.     Merrily  the  reply  sung  forth  : 

"  '  I  am  Coltmile,  of  Voltaic.  Arrived  in 
nick  of  time.  Trapped  burglars,  who  were 
after  safe  in  board-room.  Lady  all  right, 
had  bravely  barricaded  herself  in  small  test- 
ing-room. Gone  home  in  cab,  but  sends  love. 
Ta-ta,  old  man.' 

"  Down  on  my  bended  knees  I  sank. 

" '  Thank  Heaven  ! '  I  exclaimed,  forgetting 
to  reply  to  the  good  fellow  in  London,  so  in- 
tently was  I  reading  and  re-reading  the 
blessed  slip.  'We  shall  have  "a  happy  New 
Year  after  all ! ' 

"  Then  it  was  that  I  so  mysteriously  disap- 
peared from  Glasburg  and  from  telegraphy 
forever,  discarding  all  else  but  my  love.  I 
took  the  night  train  for  London  an  hour 
afterward,  saw  my  fiancee  next  morning 
safe  and  well,  resigned  my  situation,  and 
through  her  family's  interest  obtained  a  posi- 
tion on  the  Stock  Exchange,  where  I  have 
since  prospered  amazingly." 

"And  Miss  Graeme?"  I  breathlessly  in- 
quired. 

"Willis  rang  the  bell.  A  sweet-faced  ma- 
tron entered,  a  pretty  babe  in  her  arms. 

"  She  is  here  to  answer  for  herself,"  said 
he,  introducing  me  to  Mrs.  Willis. 

"  Her  flashing  dark  eyes  smiled  upon  me, 
Two  ripe,  pouting  lips  lisped  my  name,     1 
But  her  sweetness  and  innocence  won  me; 
Those  charms  that  have  never  grown  tame." 


During  a  thnndcr  storm  a  gentleman  in  Paris 
took  a  hack  down  the  Champs  Elysees  toward  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain.  He  noticed  that  at  every 
flash  of  lightning  his  driver  piously  made  the  sign 
of  the  cross,  and  remarked : 


"  I  observe  that  you  cross  yourself,  Tou  do 
well." 

"  Oh,  yes.  It  is  always  well  where  there  are  so 
many  trees,  but  once  we  get  into  the  streets  I  don't 
give  a  curse." 


Inlaying  ivith  Fire, 


"  Yes,  I'll  do  it  if  I  live  ten  minutes  longer 
and  can  raise  her,  and  1  guess  I  can,  for  she 
is  never  slow  in  answering,"  and  Rena  Chel- 
sey,  operator  at  "M.,"  threw  back  her  curls  in 
an  energetic  manner  with  her  left  hand  while 
she  opened  her  key  with  the  right.  While 
her  rapidly  written  "  Ba  "  sounded  along  the 
wire  without  bringing  an  immediate  response, 
she  said  to  herself,  in  a  low  tone : 

"  I  suppose  it  isn't  just  the  thing  to  fool 
her,  but  I  must  do  something  to  keep  from 
stagnating  in  this  dull  office.  Yes,  I  will 
sign  a  man's  name  and  fool  her  in  grand 
shape.  She  hardly  ever  receives  from  me, 
and  has  only  been  in  that  office  a  short  time, 
so  she  won't  know  my  sending." 

Just  then  "  Bn "  sounded  a  brisk  "  i  i," 
and  in  another  half  minute  Rena  had  written 
"  *  G  M : '  Fine  mng,  isn't  it  ?  How  is  every- 
thing at '  Bn  ? '" 

"  '"G  M : '  Yes,  splendid.  Everything  O  K, 
Ink  u.     Sign  pis." 

"  My  name  is  Isaac,  but  I  sign  '  Ic' " 

"U  are  joking,  I  fear.  Is  your  name  real- 
ly Isaac  ? " 

"  I  am  not,  truly.  If  you  ever  want  me 
call '  Ic'  How  are  u  getting  along  in  ur  new 
ofc  ?  I  saw  u  sitting  near  ur  window  the 
other  day  while  I  was  passing  there  on  the 
train,  and  u  will  pardon  me,  I  trust,  if  I  tell 
II  that  I  compared  u  to  a  white  rose  I  held 
in  my  hand.  U  are  looking  pale  and  shld 
take  a  vacation." 

Then  some  one  "  broke,"  and  Rena  Chelsey 
threw  her  head  back  and  gave  vent  to  a 
hearty  laugh. 

"  If  I  can  make  her  think  I  am  really  and 
truly  a  man,  I  will  have  some  fun  of  the  first 
water,"  she  said.  "  I  hear  she  is  fond  of  any 
attention  from  the  masculines.  Ha !  that 
was  a  happy  hit,  telling  her  my  name  was 
Isaac.  She  will  never  imagine  that  my 
mother  gave  me  that  for  a  middle  name  be- 
cause it  was  her  last  name  before  she  was 
married,  I  fancy  she  liked  being  told  she 
looked  like  a  rose." 


My  descriptive  powers  arc  far  from  being 
good,  but  I  must  try  to  tell  you  how  Rena 
Chelsey  looked  as  she  leaned  back  in  her 
rocker  with  such  a  merry  twinkle  in  her  eyes. 

She  was  not  a  small  girl.  A  rather  tall,  but 
well-proportioned  figure  was  hers.  A  shapely 
head  and  a  good  forehead,  which  was  not 
covered  with  frizzed  hair,  as  is  the  fashion. 
Lips  which  could  form  themselves  into  a  very 
firm,  loving  mouth  when  occasion  demanded 
it,  closed  over  a  set  of  strong,  even  teeth,  or 
displayed  them  when  tiiey  parted  in  a  smile, 
as  was  often  the  case,  for  this  Rena  of  mine 
was  a  merry  body,  and  fond  of  fun.  The 
skin  was  rather  dark  as  the  miscievous-look- 
ing  eyes  were  blue,  but  take  her  as  a  whole 
she  was  a  really  fine  looking  girl,  and  had 
been  called  more  than  once  the  best  looking 
operator  on  the  line. 

But  those  who  were  so  fortunate  as  to  know 
her  well,  valued  her  kind  heart  much  more 
than  her  pretty  face.  Left  an  orphan  at  an 
early  age,  she  had  found  life  no  play-day, 
though  she  had  ever  carried  its  burdens  M'ith 
a  song  instead  of  groans,  making  the  most  of 
its  sunshine  and  groping  bravely  through  its 
dark  portions,  and  when  I  introduce  her  to 
you,  my  reader,  she  is  grown  into  a  brave, 
happy,  self-educated,  self-supporting  girl,  and 
a  good  operator. 

Whenever  the  wire  was  not  in  use  for 
business  that  day,  Rena  kept  "  Bn "  busy 
talkins:  with  her,  and  in  the  evening,  long 
after  the  other  operators  had  gone  from  their 
offices,  the  busy  click  of  the  relays  sounded 
in  Rena's  office  and  in  that  of  "  Bn's." 

"  Whew ! "  whistled  Rena,  as  she  leaned 
back  in  her  chair  after  her  late  "  G  N  " 
from  "  Bn,"  "  I  have  certainly  waded  in 
pretty  deep  this  day  and  evening.  One 
would  suppose  from  my  talk  that  I  was  a 
regular  lady-killer.  Ha !  I  wonder  how  long 
I  can  keep  this  up  ?  But  she  is  much  more 
sensible  than  I  expected  to  find  her.  Stars  and 
garters  !  Didn't  she  come  down  heavy  on 
me  when  I  quoted  something  from  the  Bible! 


LIOUTNINO   FLASHES. 


Well,  I  liko  spunky  people.  Mercy  !  it  is 
nearly  eleven  o'clock  !  I  must  go  directly 
home." 

Scarcely  had  Kena  seated  herself  before 
lier  instrument  next  morning  when  "  Ic," 
"Ic  "  sounded  along  the  wire,  and  very  soon 
she  was  writing  in  answer  to  a  "  G  M  "  from 
«  Bn." 

"  G  M :  It  seems  ages  since  u  spoke  to 
nie.  I  dreamed  of  u  last  night,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  mng  wld  never  come." 

And  as  the  day  passed  they  found  many 
minutes  in  which  to  chat,  and  that  evening 
found  them  both  in  their  oflices  till  even 
a  later  hour  than  the  previous  one,  and  Rena 
went  home  saying  to  herself: 

"  I  feel  like  a  wicked  wretch  deceivinecsuch 
a  girl  as  she  proves  herself  to  be.  If  any- 
body ever  tells  me  again  that  Miss  Dwinell 
is  silly  I  shall  contradict  it  flatly.  She 
seems  to  know  all  about  every  author  of 
note,  and  is,  I  see,  well  versed  in  history,  and 
in  my  opinion  is  a  charming  girl  to  know." 

The  days  followed  each  other  until  three 
weeks  passed,  and  every  day  our  Rena  kept 
Tip  her  seasons  of  chat  with  "  Bn,"  while 
evening  found  eacli  ready  to  talk  and  loth  to 
say"GN." 

At  last  letters  were  exchanged.  "  That's 
■what  I  call  a  splendid  letter,"  was  Rena's 
remark  as  she  folded  her  friend's  first  epistle. 
"  Rather  coarse  writing,  but  I  hate  milk  and 
■water  girls." 

And  so  the  ■vv'eeks  ■went  on,  filled  up  with 
letter  writing,  wire  correspondence,  and  a 
few  small  presents  such  as  Miss  Dwinell 
would  accept  from  Rena. 

One  eveninjj  as  Rena  was  sittini;  in  her 
office  a  letter  was  handed  her,  and  on  open- 
ing it  she  read  : 

"Bx  Office,  Tues.,  Sept.  8th,  18— 
"  Deau  Friend  : — I  write  you  a  hasty  note 
this  r.  M.  to  say  that  I  am  going  to  Albany 
for  a  few  days,  and  shall  change  cars  at 
your  station.  Shall  have  an  hour  and  twenty 
minutes  to  wait,  and  will  you  think  me  bold 
i,f  I  ask  you  to  meet  me  on  arrival  of  train  ? 
I  shall  CO  on  4:40  train  to-morrow  A.  M. 


"  Yours,  as  ever, 


Bn." 


Hastily  calling  her  friend,  Rena  wrote : 
"  Come  by  all  means.     Shall  be  more  than 
happy  to  see  u." 

"  Now  for  it,"  she  muttered.  "  Angels  and 
ministers  of  grace  defend  us  !  What  sJiall  I 
say  to  her  when  she  comes !  If  I  had  ever 
imacfined  that  she  was  half  as  interestint;  as 
I  have  found  her,  I  would  have  tried  to  make 
her  acquaintance  at  once  in  a  decent  -way.  I 
shall  be  heartily  sorry  to  lose  her  good  opinion, 
for  I  am  so  deeply  interested  in  her  that  I 
more  than  half  wish  this  Isaac  business  was 
a  reality.  Heigho  !  Of  course,  she  will  be 
very  angry  with  me,  and  tell  me  never  to 
speak  to  her  again,  and  then — curtain  falls  to 
slow  music." 

*iJt  *1#  •!•  ^  tlf  »l^ 

r^  *y*  *f*  •^  "J*  *^ 

"  Please,  madame,  can  you  point  the  oper- 
ator at  this  station  out  to  me  ?  " 

Rena,  Avho  had  been  looking  vainly  for  the 
last  five  minutes  for  a  lady  W'ho  might  bo 
"  Bn,"  looked  up  with  a  start,  to  see  a  tall, 
fine-looking  fellow  of  perhaps  twenty-five 
years  of  age  standing  before  her. 

"I  hold  the  position  of  operator  here  at 
present,"  she  replied. 

"  And  is  there  no  other  operator  here  ?  " 
he  asked,  with  a  very  jiuzzlcd  look  on  his 
face. 

"  There  is  not  business  enough  to  keep  owe 
busy,"  she  answered,  smiling. 

"  There  must  be  some  mistake,"  he  said,  in 
a  hesitating  manner,  and  then  he  asked 
suddenly : 

"  Do  you  know  a  person  on  this  line  who 
signs  "  Ic  ?  " 

Rena's  face  ■was  scarlet  as  she  answered  : 

"  And  what  do  you  know  of  Ic  ?  Have 
you  any  business  Avith  that  person?" 

"  I  have,"  was  the  unexpected  reply. 

"  Then  Avalk  into  my  oflice,  please,  for  7'am 
'  Ic'  I  came  out  to  meet  a  friend  whom  I 
expected  on  this  train,  but  she  has  not 
come."     And  then  she  added  : 

"  Perhaps  my  friend  sent  youP 

"  What  does  your  friend  sign  ?  "  asked  the 
young  man,  as  he  took  the  chair  she  ofiered 
him. 


PLATING   WITH  FIRE. 


71 


"Her  office  call  is  *Bn,'  "  was  the  answer, 
"  but  I  believe  she  sifjns  '  D.'  " 

There  was  a  very  merry  twinkle  in  the  eye 
of  Rena's  visitor  as  he  said  : 

"  Miss  '  Ic,'  this  seems  to  be  a  real  case  of 
'  diamond  cut  diamond.'  The  fact  is,  a 
number  of  weeks  ago  Miss  Dwinell,  of '  Bn ' 
office,  wished  to  go  away,  and  I  consented  to 
remain  in  her  office  during  her  absence.  I 
had  been  there  only  a  day  or  two  when  some 
one  who  signed  '  Ic,'  and  said  his  name  was 
Isaac,  opened  a  conversation  with  me.  1 
knew  by  the  tone  that  he  thought  he  was  ad- 
dressing Miss  Dwinell.  But  the  spirit  of 
mischief  was  strong  within  me,  so  I  did  not 
tell  him  his  mistake.  You  know  how  it 
turned  out.  Believe  me  I  came  here  to-day 
feeling  so  mean  and  guilty  that  I  knew  I  de- 
served to  get  flogged,  but  guess  we  can  call 
it  even." 

There  was  stillness  for  a  moment,  and  then 
Kena's  voice  rang  out  in  a  hearty  laugh,  in 
which  her  companion  cordially  joined. 

"  But  there  is  something  I  have  yet  to  tell 
you,"  he  went  on,  when  their  merriment  had 
subsided.  "  You  have  yet  to  learn  how 
much  I  have  come  to  care  for  my  new  friend. 
Often  have  I  wished  I  loas  Miss  Dwinell,  if 
Isaac  would  care  for  me  as  he  seemed  to  care 
for  her.  But  things  are  now  just  as  they 
should  be,  and  if  you  do  not  consider  the 
action  too  abrupt  I  would  like  to  ask  you  to 
be  my  wife.  I  have  a  comfortable  income, 
and,  better  still,  love  you  devotedly.  I  think 
you  cared  for  me  in  my  old  character.  Can 
you  learn  to  love  me  in  my  new  ? 

The  merry  look  on  Rena's  young  face  had 
been  growing  graver  during  this  speech,  and 
it  was  in  a  sadly  earnest,  almost  solemn  tone 
that  she  replied : 

"  Yes,  it  would  be  an  easy  task,  but  it  must 


not  be.  Home  love  is  not  for  me.  I  have 
duties  you  know  nothing  of — a  purpose 
in  life  which  I  must  woi*k  out  alone.  Let  us 
each  go  our  own  way,  bravely  walking  in  the 
path  marked  out  for  us ;  content,  though  no 
earthly  reward  come  to  us,  if  we  are  sure  we 
have  a  'Well  done'  waiting  for  us  in  the 
world  beyond.  I  thank  you  sincerely.  This 
brief  friendship  will  ever  be  a  pleasant  mem- 
ory to  me,  and  from  my  heart  I  say,  may 
God  bless  and  prosper  you." 

As  the  closing  words  were  spoken,  the  soft 
rays  of  the  setting  sun  came  in  through  the 
window  and  rested  upon  the  brown  hair  like 
a  golden  crown.  Herbert  Stanley  bowed  his 
head  as  if  he  had  received  a  benediction, 
and  slowly  and  silently  walked  away  from 
the  office. 

%  *  H:  %  4:  4:  4: 

Among  those  who  have  reached  a  hi^h 
place  in  the  telegraphic  profession  is  Herbert 
Stanley.  He  is  a  grave,  quiet  man,  and  peo- 
ple often  wonder  that  he  does  not  marry; 
but  he  only  smiles  sadly  in  answer,  and  his 
mind  goes  sadly  back  to  that  autumn  after- 
noon when  the  earnest  words  were  spoken 
which  made  him  think  for  tiie  first  time  if 
he,  too,  had  not  a  work  to  do  in  life — a  pur- 
pose to  fulfill. 

A  few  years  later  Rena  died.     Her  work 

was  done.     The  brave  heart  ceased  to  beat, 

and  the  tired  hands  were  folded,  and  no  one 

said  that  hers  had  been  a  wasted  life.   Thank 

God  she  has  found  a  home  at  last. 

******* 

Turning  the  leaves  of  "Whittier's  beautiful 
poem,  "  Snowbound,"  Herbert  Stanley  al- 
ways lingers  over  the  words : 

"  But  Love  will  dream,  and  Hope  will  trust, 
Since  He  who  knows  our  need  is  just ; 
That  somewhere,  somehow,  sometime. 
Meet  we  must." 


"  Now,  you  see,  Sam,  s'pose  da  was  a  dog,  and 
dat  dog's  .head  was  in  Hoboken  and  bis  tail  in 
Brooklyn."  "  Go  'way,  da  ain't  no  such  dog." 
"Well,  s'pose  da  was."    '-"Well,  s'pose  da  was." 


"  "Well,  den  do  telegram  is  jest  like  dat  dog.  If  I 
pinch  dat  dog's  tail  in  Brooklyn,  what  he  do?" 
"Dunuo."  "Why,  if  I  pinch  that  dog's  tail  in 
Brooklyn,  he  go  bark  in  Hoboken.  Dat's  the  science. 


73 


LIOUTNING  FLASHES. 


Thoughts  for  Serious  3Ionients. 


Fricndsbip  is  full  of  dregs. 

Youth  holds  no  society  with  grief. 

So  sad,  so  fresh,  the  days  that  are  no  more. 

Some  are  too  wise,  or  too  difficult,  to  be  pleased. 

Reading  without  retlection  will  never  make  a  man 
wise. 

We  darken  our  own  lot,  then  call  our  sorrows 
destiny. 

Passions  are  as  easily  evaded  as  impossible  to 
moderate. 

From  the  follies  of  youth  usually  spring  many  of 
life's  after  sorrows. 

Man  creates  more  discontent  to  himself  than  ever 
is  occasioned  by  others. 

The  higher  the  rank  the  less  the  pretence,  because 
there  is  less  to  pretend  to. 

A  habit  of  sincerity  in  acknowledging  faults,  is  a 
guard  against  committing  ihcm. 

Be  reserved  in  discourse  ;  it  never  can  be  hurtful, 
and  it  may  prevent  much  mischief. 

He  who  cannot  conceal  his  vexation,  makes  him- 
self a  laughing-stock  for  his  enemies. 

The  surest  and  most  speedy  road  to  distinction  is 
the  diligent  cultivation  of  natural  tact. 

We  should  accustom  the  mind  to  keep  the  best 
company  by  introducing  it  only  to  the  best  books. 

Men  are  seldom  struck  with  incongruities  in  their 
own  appearance  any  more  than  in  their  own  con- 
duct. 

The  heart  that  has  something  to  love,  and  is  loved 
in  return,  can  never  be  utterly  and  remedilessly 
wretched. 

Good  breeding  is  benevolence  in  trifles,  or  the 
preference  of  others  to  ourselves  in  the  little  daily 
occurrences  of  life. 

Scorn  not  the  advice  of  an  inferior  ;  the  underling 
of  fortune  may  be,  in  merit,  your  superior,  bitua- 
tiou  never  determines  ability. 

Our  enemies  deserve  our  greatest  attention  always, 
sonielimos  our  extreme  respect;  from  them  comes 
amendment  and  correction. 

Nothing  is  greater  than  to  bestow  favors  upon 
those  who  have  failed  in  their  duty  to  us;  nothing 
meaner  than  to  receive  any  from  them. 

National  pro^^ress  is  the  sum  of  individual  indus- 
try, energy,  and  uprightness,  as  national  decay  is  of 
individual  idleness,  seltishness,  and  vice. 

A  restless  mind,  like  a  rolling  stone,  gathers  no- 
thing but  dirt  and  mire.  LilUe  or  no  good  will 
cleave  to  it ;  and  it  is  sure  to  leave  peace  and  quiet- 
ness behind  it. 

The  Athenians  erected  a  large  statue  of  ^sop, 
and  placed  him,  though  a  slave,  on  a  lasting  ped- 
estal, to  sliow  that  the  way  to  honor  lies  open  indif- 
ferently to  all. 


Genius  is  only  great  patience. 

Peace  is  rarely  denied  to  the  peaceful. 

Things  past  may  be  repented,  but  not  recalled. 

As  if  you  could  kill  time  without  injuring  eter- 
nity ! 

Moments  sometimes  make  the  hues  in  which  years 
are  colored. 

Politeness  has  been  well  defined  as  benevolence  in 
small  things. 

That  man  lives  greatly,  whatever  his  fate  or  fame, 
who  greatly  dies. 

He  who  assumes  to  be  what  he  is  not,  will  inevit- 
ably become  nothing  at  all. 

As  charity  covers  a  multitude  of  sins  before  God, 
so  does  politeness  before  men. 

Conscience,  when  once  hushed  to  sleep,  may  rise 
to  torture,  but  will  wake  no  more  to  save. 

I  love  such  mirth  as  does  not  make  friends 
ashamed  to  look  upon  one  another  next  morning. 

Gentleman  is  a  term  which  does  not  apply  to  any 
station,  but  to  the  mind  and  feelings  in  every  station. 

Talent  lying  in  the  understanding  is  often  inheri- 
ted ;  genius,  being  the  action  of  reason  or  imagina- 
tion, rarely  or  never. 

Those  who  will  not  condescend,  as  they  term  it, 
should  be  extremely  careful  not  to  assume  any  sort 
of  deportment  indicative  of  superiority. 

Prayer  among  men  is  supposed  to  change  the  per- 
son to  whom  we  pray  ;  but  prayer  to  God  doth  not 
change  Him,  but  fits  us  to  receive  the  thing  prayed 
for. 

I  give  it  as  my  deliberate  and  solemn  conviction 
that  the  individual  who  is  habitually  tardy  in  meet- 
ing an  appointment  will  never  be  respected  or  suc- 
cessful in  life. 

The  poor  man  who  envies  not  the  rich,  who  pities 
his  companions  of  poverty,  and  can  spare  something 
for  him  that  is  still  poorer,  is,  in  the  realms  of  hu- 
manity, a  king  of  kings. 

Garments  that  have  one  rent  in  them  are  subject 
to  be  torn  on  every  nail,  and  glasses  that  are  once 
cracked  are  soon  broken ;  such  is  man's  good  name 
once  tainted  with  just  reproach. 

Great  characters  are  seldom  known ;  great  merit 
is  as  seldom  understood.  Greatness  is,  in  fact,  only  a 
term  of  comparison,  though  it  is  not  always  allowed 
to  see  what  is  greater  than  itself. 

A  fair  reputation  is  a  plant  delicate  in  its  nature* 
and  by  no  means  rapid  in  its  growth.  It  will  shoot 
up  in  a  night  like  the  gourd  of  the  prophet;  but 
like  that  gourd,  it  may  perish  in  a  night. 

The  immortal  God 
Accepts  the  meanest  altars  that  are  raised 
By  pure  devotions ;  and  sometimes  prefers 
An  ounce  of  frankincense,  honey,  or  milk. 
Before  whole  hecatombs,  or  Sajbean  gems, 
Otfer'd  in  ostentation. 


THOUGHTS  FOR  SERIOUS  MOMENTS. 


Need  teacheth  unlawful  thiugs. 

Ye  stars  that  are  the  poetry  of  heaven  ! 

There  is  a  mode  of  presenting  that  gives  value  to 
anything. 

Malignity  generally  drinks  the  greatest  part  of  its 
own  poison. 

Pain  addeth  zest  uuto  pleasure  and  teaches  the 
luxury  of  health. 

Life  is  not  the  supreme  good;  but  of  all  earthly 
ills  the  chief  is  guilt. 

It  is  inconceivable  how  much  wit  is  required  to 
avoid  being  ridiculous. 

Be  calm  in  arguing,  for  fierceness  makes  error  a 
guilt  and  truth  discourtesy. 

Do  not  forget  that  while  you  fold  your  hands, 
Time  folds  not  up  his  wings. 

The  mind  revolts  against  certain  opinions  as  the 
stomach  rejects  certain  foods. 

A  mind  that  is  conscious  of  its  integrity  scorns  to 
say  more  than  it  means  to  perform. 

Let  your  company  either  please,  instruct,  or  trans- 
port, if  you  would  have  it  sought  for. 

The  saddest  failures  in  life  come  from  the  not 
putting  forth  of  the  power  to  succeed. 

Great  characters  are  their  own  heralds,  though 
they  have  thousands  to  announce  them. 

Friends  are  pillows  on  which  we  repose,  or  cor- 
dials that  inspirit  the  system  without  injuring  it. 

They  that  stand  high  have  many  blasts  to  shake 
them ;  and  if  they  falllhey  dash  themselves  to  pieces. 

If  man  is  as  passionate,  malicious,  resentful,  sullen, 
moodj^  or  morose,  after  his  conversion  as  before  it, 
what  is  he  converted  from  or  to  ? 

If  we  would  amend  the  world,  we  should  amend 
ourselves,  and  teach  our  children  to  be  not  what  we 
arc  ourselves,  but  what  they  should  be. 

Debts  are  pardoned  oftener  than  robberies ;  yet  a 
debt  is  no  other  than  a  robbery  if  return  is  not  in- 
tended ;  and  being  contracted  on  the  presumption 
of  faith,  aggravates  the  oflense. 

Contentment  abides  with  truth.  And  you  will 
generally  suffer  for  wishing  to  appear  other  than 
you  are,  whether  it  be  richer,  or  greater,  or  more 
learned.  The  mask  soon  becomes  an  instrument  of 
torture. 

Hours  have  wings,  and  fly  up  to  the  Author  of 
time,  and  carry  news  of  our  usage ;  all  our  prayers 
cannot  entreat  one  of  them  to  return  or  slacken  his 
pace;  the  loss  of  every  minute  is  a  new  record 
against  us  in  Heaven. 

There  is  always  something  great  in  that  man 
against  whom  the  world  exclaims,  at  whom  every 
one  throws  a  stone,  and  on  whose  character  all  at- 
tempt to  fix  a  thousand  crimes  without  being  able 
to  prove  one. 

Truth  has  always  the  support  of  reason,  though  it 
is  in  secret ;  error  has  often  the  support  of  force  1 
The  armies  of  every  monarch  on  the  earth  are  com- 
posed of  men  who  enforce  robbery,  and  dicipline 
citizens  by  that  social  curse— the  sword. 


Pity,  the  tenderest  part  of  love. 

Keep  true  to  the  dreams  of  youth 

Poets  are  too  frequently  merely  poets. 

The  best  head  cannot  atone  for  a  bad  heart. 

All  philosophy  lies  in  two  words,  "sustain"  and 
"  abstain." 

Those  who  complain  most  are  most  to  be  com- 
plained of. 

Opportunity  is  rare,  and  a  wise  man  will  never  let 
it  go  by  him. 

Speak  not  ill  of  an  enemy ;  it  will  be  ascribed  to 
pijejudice,  not  truth. 

He  shall  be  immortal  who  liveth  till  he  be  stoned 
by  one  without  fault. 

Prayer  is  a  shield  to  the  soul,  a  sacrifice  to  God, 
and  a  scourge  to  Satan. 

The  air  is  full  of  farewells  to  the  dying,  and 
mournings  for  the  dead. 

Embark  in  no  enterprise  which  you  can  not  sub- 
mit to  the  test  of  prayer. 

Learning  without  thought  is  labor  lost ;  thought 
without  learning  is  perilous. 

The  only  sin  which  we  never  forgive  in  each, 
other  is  difference  of  opinion. 

Benefits  too  loosely  bestowed,  and  too  frequently, 
are  commonly  attended  with  ingratitude. 

The  real  gentleman  should  be  temperate  iu  every- 
thing, at  least  in  everything  that  depends  upon  him- 
self—in carriage,  temper,  constructions,  aims,  de- 
sires. 

To  conquer  trifles  is  an  irksome,  not  an  impossible 
task  to  a  lofty  mind  ;  the  difficulty  must  be  equal  to 
its  faculties ;  when  it  is  superior,  the  trifle  neglected 
subdues  the  greatest. 

Charity  is  that  rational  and  constant  affection 
which  makes  us  sacrifice  ourselves  to  the  human 
race  as  if  we  were  united  with  it  so  as  to  form  one 
individual,  partaking  equally  in  its  prosperity  and 
adversity. 

It  is  the  great  privilege  of  poverty  to  be  happy 
unevied,  to  be  healthy  without  physic,  secured 
without  a  guard,  and  to  obtain  from  the  bounty  of 
nature  what  the  great  and  wealthy  are  compelled  to 
procure  by  the  help  of  art. 

The  happiness  of  life  is  made  up  of  minute  frac- 
tions—the little,  soon  forgotten  charities  of  a  kiss, 
a  smile,  a  kind  look,  a  heartfelt  compliment  in  the 
dis'mise  of  a  playful  raillery  and  the  countless 
oth^er  infinitesimals  of  pleasant  thought  and  feeling. 

Insist  on  yourself,  never  imitate.  Your  own  gift 
vou  can  present  every  moment  with  cumulative 
'o-ift  force  of  a  whole  life's  cultivation;  but  of 
fhe  adopted  talent  of  another  you  have  only  au 
extemporaneous  half  possession.  That  which  each 
can  do  best  none  but  his  Maker  can  teach  him. 
No  man  yet  knows,  nor  can,  till  that  person  has 
exhibited  it.  Where  is  the  master  who  could  have 
taught  Shakspeare  ?  Where  is  the  master  who 
could  have  instructed  Franklin,  or  Washmgton,  or 
Morse,  or  Newton  ?    Every  great  man  is  a  unique. 


74 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


A  Slif/ht  3Iistake. 


"Paul  liiverson,  are  you  deaf  or  crazy?  "Hd" 
Las  been  calling  you  for  at  leaat  ten  minutes,  and 
here  you  sit  like  a  stone  and  never  make  a  move  to 
answer." 

Paul  quickly  placed  his  fingers  on  the  key,  saying, 

as  he  did  so  : 

"  Is  that  so  ?  By  Jove !  I  didn't  notice  that  any 
one  was  culling  me.  Just  step  over  here,  Fred,  and 
after  I  receive  this  message  PU  tell  you  what  makes 
me  so  absent-minded,  for  of  course  you  have  no- 
ticed that  I  am  so." 

Business  was  rather  dull  in  X  office  that  day,  so 
Fred  soon  found  time  to  go  over  to  lliverson's 
table.    As  soon  as  he  was  seated  Lis  friend  began  : 

"  I  believe,  Fred,  Pve  met  my  fate.  You  know  I 
took  a  trip  down  to  L.  the  other  day.  Well,  while 
I  was  waiting  for  the  train  to  leave,  the  operator 
came  into  the  gentleman's  room  to  bring  a  message 
to  the  station  agent,  and  my  heart  was  lost  at  once. 
She  is  loveliness  personified.  Talk  about  Hebe  and 
Juno,  and  all  the  rest  as  much  as  you  choose  1  I 
don't  believe  any  of  them  could  compare  with  my 
peerless  little  operator." 

"  Did  you  learn  ber  name  ?  "  asked  Fred,  in  an 
interested  tone. 

"  Not  then,"  was  the  answer,  "  but  I  have  since. 
You  see,  Fred,  I  thought  of  nothing  but  her  sweet 
face  after  I  came  back,  and  called  her  every  time  I 
could  get  the  wire.  She  chatted  very  freely  with 
me,  and  at  last  I  sent  her  a  letter,  merely  directing 
to  telegraph  office,  as  I  did  not  know  her  name,  but 
she  answered  the  very  next  day,  and  signed  Flossie 
Bates.  Pretty  name, isn't  it?  I  imagined  her  name 
would  be  something  like  that.  Well,  since  that  Pve 
written  to  her  every  morning  and  received  an  an- 
swer every  evening.  The  last  mail  isn't  opened 
until  ten  o'clock,  and  then  I  have  to  go  nearly  a 
mile  out  of  my  w^ay  to  get  my  letter,  but  Pd  rather 
walk  a  dozen  miles  than  miss  getting  it.  I  told  the 
postmaster  not  to  send  them  to  the  office,  for  the 
fellows  might  make  remarks  if  they  saw  the  same 
handwriting  so  often.  You  are  the  only  person  I 
have  trusted  with  my  secret,  so  mind  you  keep  still, 
old  fellow." 

Just  then  Fred  was  called  away,  and  Paul  was 
left  to  dream  of  his  charmer  undisturbed,  for  the 
other  operators  were  out  to  dinner. 

The  weeks  passed  rapidly  away  until  two  months 
had  gone  by  since  Paul  first  spoke  with  Miss  Bates 
on  the  wire,  when  one  morning  he  asked  Fred  Law- 
son  if  he  could  perform  his  (Paul's)  duties  for  a  day 
or  two  as  well  as  his  own,  as  he  wished  to  visit  L. 

"  What !  Has  it  got  as  far  along  as  that  ?  "  asked 
Fred,  in  astonishment. 


"  Yes,"  answered  Paul,  "  I  have  come  to  that  pass 
when  I  must  speak  or  die.  I  must  know  my  fate. 
If  she  refuses,  don't  be  surprised  to  find  my  name 
among  the  list  of  suicides." 

A  young  gentleman  could  scarcely  look  more 
stylish  than  did  Paul  as  he  stepped  off  the  train  at 
L.  His  new  seventy-five  dollar  suit  fitted  him  to  a 
charm,  and  the  bootblack  who  gave  his  ten-dollar 
shoes  their  "  shine  "  assuredly  understood  his  busi- 
ness. His  eight-dollar  hat  sat  with  jaunty  grace  on 
his  perfumed  hair,  and  in  his  hand  he  carried  a  very 
pretty  little  cane. 

The  telegraph  office  door  was  opened  in  answer 
to  Paul's  very  genteel  rap  by  a  woman  of  about 
fifty,  with  a  decidedly  stout  figure  and  a  profusion 
of  gray  hair,  the  latter  frizzled  and  puffed  in  every 
imaginable  manner.  She  was  clad  in  a  wine-col- 
ored dress,  with  many  small  blue  bows  in  front,  and 
a  green  necktie,  the  latter  tied  around  a  linen  collar 
which  came  up  high  in  the  neck. 

What  was  Paul's  surprise  when  this  person  threw 
her  arms  around  his  neck  and  exclaimed  : 

"  Paul,  dear  Paul,  you  have  come  at  last !  Oh, 
how  impatiently  I  have  waited  for  this  hour  ! " 

"  There  is  some  mistake,  madame,  I  assure  you," 
cried  Paul,  as  soon  as  he  could  disengage  himself 
from  her  embrace.  He  entered  the  office  and  sank 
down  on  a  chair  as  he  said  : 

"  I  came  to  see  Miss  Flossie  Bates.  Can  you  tell 
me  where  she  can  be  found  ?  " 

There  was  a  world  of  reproach  in  the  woman's 
tone  as  she  replied : 

"  Paul,  I  am  Flossie  Bates— your  own  Flossie,  as 
you  have  so  often  called  me  in  your  letters." 

"  But  I  came  to  visit  the  operator,"  persisted 
Paul. 

"  And  I   am  the  operator,"  replied  Miss  Bates, 

with  dignity. 
"For  heaven's  sake,  is  there  no  other  operator 

here  ? "  frantically  questioned  Paul. 

"  And  if  there  were,  sir,  I  am  the  girl  you  have 
called  at  least  a  dozen  times  a  day  for  nearly  two 
months,  and  written  to  every  day  for  more  than 
four  weeks ;  and  after  declaring  so  many  times 
that  you  saw  me  when  you  were  here  before, 
and  fell  in  love  with  my  beautiful  face,  you  now 
behave  as  if  you  had  never  set  eyes  upon  me  in  the 
world." 

Just  then  a  lady  passed  by  the  window  beside 
which  Paul  stood. 

"There,"  he  almost  shouted,  "that  is  the  girl  i 
came  to  see.    Who  is  she  ? " 

"That  speaks  volumes  for  you,  young  man,"  re- 
plied the  irate  operator  in  a  freezing  tone.    "  It  is  a 


THE  TELEORAPHEES  SONG. 


75 


good  sign  in  a  man  to  be  running  after  other  men's 
■wives." 

"  Is  she  married  ?  "  faintly  asked  Paul. 

"  Of  course  she's  married.  She's  the  station 
agent's  wife." 

Then  he  understood  it  all.  The  lad}"-  had  been  in 
Miss  Bates'  office  on  the  day  of  his  former  yisit  to 
L.,  and  had  handed  the  message  which  he  saw  in 


her  hand  to  her  husband.  Paul  hardly  knew  how 
he  reached  home,  and  I  will  not  try  to  tell  you. 
He  is  now  employed  under  an  assumed  name  in 
a  distant  State.  lie  never  speaks  to  any  one  on 
the  wire  now  unless  the  conversation  is  purely 
of  a  business  nature,  and  he  is  often  heard  to  de- 
clare that  the  best  of  people  will  sometimes  make 
i  mistakes. 


From  every  corner  of  the  earth] 
The  startling  news  we  bring ; 

We  weave  a  girdle  round  the  globe 
And  guide  the  lightning's  wing. 


The  Telegrapher^ s  Song, 

We  touch  our  key,  and,  quick  as  thought, 

The  message  onward  flies — 
For  every  point  within  the  world 


Far  as  the  distant  thunder  rolls 
O'er  stream  and  rock  and  sea. 

We  join  the  nations  in  one  clasp 
Of  friendly  unity. 


Right  at  our  elbow  lies. 

Ours  is  the  greatest  boon  to  man 
That  genius  yet  has  given — 

To  make  a  messenger  of  thought, 
The  lightning  bolts  of  Heaven. 


THE  TE-LEG-RAPHER 


Walking,  although  a  most  exhilirating  ex- 
ercise, is  an  occupation  which  of  all  others 
imposes  the  very  gravest  responsibilities  on 
those  who  have  the  hardihood  to  brave  its 
difficulties,  and,  like  entering  upon  the  tele- 
graphic "  profession,"  when  you  have  once 
got  fairly  on  the  great  highway,  and  all  the 
fair  prospects  have  been  left  far  behind,  and 
all  the  bad  ones  are  visibly  before  you,  and 
the  well  known  uncongeniality  of  the  wicked 
world  toward  the  average  telegrapher  ap- 
pears in  all  its  significance,  it  is  very  difficult 
to  retrace  your  steps,  and  just  as  discourag- 


ing to  go  on.  Even  the  most  sensitive  col- 
lege professor  will  not  deny  that  telegraphers 
are  assiduous  walkers,  and  that  they  have 
been  known  to  travel  afoot  from  Omaha  to 
the  sea,  east  or  west,  in  quest  of  a  chance  to 
salt  somebody  at  a  high  salary.  Indeed,  it 
is  well  known  that  the  lexicographers  have 
changed  the  pronunciation  of  our  designating 
title  on  this  account — "  tele-(7ra/>A-er  "  having 
been  appropriately  reaccented,  in  view  of 
our  numerous  pedestrian  expeditions,  and  we 
are  now  called  "  te-/e^-raphers,"  with  tlie  ac- 
cent placed  sarcastically  on  the  " 


76 


LIOHTNING  FLASHES. 


The  Vow  of  the  Six  Telegraph  Operators. 


CHAPTER  I. 


It  was  twcnty-fivo  years  ago — long  before 
the  City  of  Hartford,  Conn.,  had  acquired 
the  great  commercial  importance  and  lofty 
prominence  that  the  business  interests,  horse- 
races, and  base-ball  matches  of  the  present 
day  have  given  it — long  before  it  ranked 
with  the  first  of  the  centers  of  our  Republic 
in  the  encouragement  of  healthful  out-door 
sports  and  gay  festivities — that  a  horse-race 
occurred  there  with  which  the  succeeding 
incidents  of  this  narrative  are  closely  con- 
nected. 

The  telegraph  business  of  the  city,  and, 
indeed,  of  the  entire  country,  was  very 
meager,  and  the  office  itself,  located  in  an 
obscure  part  of  Asylum  Street,  furnished 
with  extreme  modesty,  suggested  that  econ- 
omy of  management  was  the  paramount  con- 
sideration of  the  then  struggling  company. 

One  operator  was  fully  competent  to  per- 
form all  the  limited  business  which  the  pub- 
lic, but  slightly  appreciating  the  benefits  of 
the  wondrous  art,  ofiered.  Yet  he  did  not 
enjoy  much  leisure  time,  for,  in  addition  to 
his  duties  as  operator,  he  was  required  to 
perform  the  entire  work  of  the  office.  He 
delivered  his  messages,  cleaned  the  batteries, 
acted  as  his  own  accountant,  and,  in  a  word, 
was  the  embodiment  of  all  the  titles  in  which 
a  score  of  proud  telegraphers  glory  in  any 
first-class  office  of  the  present  day.  Reading 
by  sound  was  then  comparatively  unknown, 
and  William  White,  the  manager  of  Hart- 
ford office,  was  constrained,  from  lack  of 
other  methods,  to  trace  out  the  mystic  sym- 
bols, as  one  by  one  they  were  recorded  by 
the  register  on  the  now  almost  discarded 
ribbon.  In  these  advanced  days  of  tele- 
graphy, White,  with  so  scant  a  knowledge 
of  the  science,  would  unquestionably  be  as- 
signed to  that  infamous  phalanx  known  by 
tlie  expressive  title,  plugs;  but  in  that  day 
he  was  considered  an  expert,  and  ranked . 
among  the  best  telegraphic  knights  of  which 
the  State  boasted. 

I  have  said  that  White  in  his  day  was  as 
competent  as  the  best,  but,  my  amiable  critic, 
if  you  consult  your  own  experience,  you  will 
agree  that  there  is  a  time  in  the  career  of 
every  operator  when  he  merits  the  stigma  of 
that  odious  appellation — plug.  A  day  when 
his  bungling  and  undexterous  manipulation 
of  the  key  justifies  the  application  of  the 
.  title   with  all   the   galling  opprobrium   and 


shame-bearing  humiliation  that  the  word  con- 
veys— a  day  when  the  word  so  far  fails  to  ex- 
press the  being  to  whom  it  is  applied  that 
necessity  demands  that  the  contemptuous 
curl  of  the  lip  and  passionate  flash  of  tlie  eye 
be  seen,  and  the  profane  adjective  that  ac- 
companies it  heard  ere  it  can  be  fully  real- 
ized in  its  intense  and  bitter  significance,  and 
be  said  to  fittingly  apply  to  the  one  at  whom 
it  is  hurled. 

White  would  have  readily  admitted  this 
fact  if  he  were  engaged  to-day  as  we  find 
him  at  the  opening  of  this  chapter,  leaning 
over  his  register,  and  with  deep  scrutiny  de- 
ciphering the  words  that  were  flashed  to  him 
from  Waterbury,  Conn. 

"  Say,  Billy,  I  am  going  up  to  Hartford  to- 
morrow to  see  the  horse-race." 

"  Good  enough  !  "  exclaimed  White,  "  good 
enough  !  So  Fred  Green,  operator  at  Wa- 
terbury, is  coming  up.  Well,  old  boy,  come 
along.  We'll  try  to  make  your  visit  a  pleas- 
ant one,  and  Billy  White  won't  stint  himself 
in  extending  to  you  the  hospitalities  of  the 
city  as  far  as  lies  in  his  power.  Good 
enough  !  "  and  White  slapped  his  right  thigh 
vigorously. 

Another  call  and  White,  momentarily  re- 
straining his  glee,  rushes  to  the  key  to  an- 
swer. The  words  are  recorded  slowly  and 
plainly,  and  with  a  space  between  each  letter 
that  defied  economy  in  register-paper  and 
operators'  time.  It  was  Augustus  Ballou, 
of  New  Haven,  writing. 

"Frank  Gray,  of  New  London,  and  myself 
will  be  in  your  city  to-morrow  to  see  the  fun." 

White,  after  expressing  himself  to  Ballou 
as  happy  to  know  it,  sliouts  out,  "  Good 
again  !  Even  better  !  My  old  friend  Gus 
Ballou,  one  of  the  primest  lads  that  ever 
broke  bad  sending,  is  coming  up  to  see  me  ; 
and  with  him  Frank  Gray,  the  New  London 
operator.  I  don't  know  this  Gray,  but  as 
long  as  he's  a  friend  of  Gus,  he's  a  friend  of 
mine.  Good  again  !  Even  better  !  And  he 
attempted  to  kick  the  office  ceiling  in  the 
efibrt  to  give  vent  to  liis  joy.  He  failed  to 
reach  it,  and  before  he  was  able  to  repeat 
the  effort  another  call  had  arrested  his  sport- 
iveness,  and  he  again  copied  from  the  ribbon, 
and  read  as  follows  : 

"  Tom  Brown,  operator  at  Norwich,  Conn,, 
and  I  are  to  be  at  the  Hartford  races  to- 
morrow." 


THE  VOW  OF  THE  SIX  TELEGRAPH  OPERATORS. 


■77 


White's  happiness  was  now  nothing  short 
of  ecstatic,  and  after  giving  "  O.  K."  to  the 
announcement,  he  closed  his  key,  opened  his 
mouth,  and  shouted  vociferously,  "  Good 
enough !  Good  again !  Continual  good- 
ness !  So  Harry  Black,  of  ]3ridgeport,  is 
coming,  too,  and  with  him — let's  see — oh 
yes,  Tom  Brown,  of  Norwich.  I  don't  ever 
remember  to  have  met  Brown  or  Gray. 
They  liail  from  the  great  whaling  ports. 
Old  salts,  I  reckon.  And  then  Avith  a  tri- 
umphant shout  he  went  to  the  spot  of  his 
failure  of  a  few  minutes  previous  and  re- 
attempted  to  kick  the  ceiling.  The  eifort  was 
successful  to  a  degree  beyond  his  most  san- 
guine expectations.  His  foot  reached  the 
ceiling,  but  losing  his  balance,  over  he  went 
backward,  striking  his  head  squarely  into  a 
pail  of  water,  his  heels  coming  into  violent 
contact  with  six  glass  jars  which  he  had  but 
a  moment  before  tilled  with  battery  prepara- 
tion, shattering  them  into  a  thousand  frag- 
ments. As  has  been  seen.  White  was  a 
youth  of  very  merry  disposition.  He  was 
much  addicted  to  puns  and  witticisms,  in 
which  he  found  great  amusement,  and  Avbich 
frequently  proved,  as  in  the  present  instance, 
a  salutary  balm  for  his  afflictions.  The  av- 
erage operator  would  have  indulged  in  pro- 
fanity and  indignation.  Not  so  with  White. 
He  carefully  arose,  with  the  water  dripping 
from  his  head  in  a  stream,  and  gazing  at  the 
chaos,  said : 

"  TFa«;gr  misfortune  this  is  !  How  refresh- 
ing these   baths  are !     I  love  to  take  them 


but  this   was   rather  too    sudden    and 


un- 
warned. I  love  swimming,  but  the  width 
of  that  bucket  and  the  depth  of  the  water 
are  too  circumscribed  to  allow  activity  and 
expansion — two  things  most  desirable  in  the 
practice  of  bathing.  Well,"  he  continued, 
after  a  pause,  "  I  have  lost  six  jars  and — let 
me  see — have  I  gained  any?  Yes;  jarred' 
my  head,  one ;  both  legs,  two ;  right  shoul- 
der, one ;  left  side,  one ;  whole  body,  one ; 
total,  six  jars ;  therefore  I  gain  all  I  have 
lost ;"  and  he  gazed  smilingly  at  the  broken 
objects,  gathered  them  up,  lighted  a  cheap 
cigar,  and  coursed  his  way  homeward  to  pro- 
vide for  the  coming  of  his  friends  on  the  mor- 
row to  witness  the  great  horse-race  of  July 
4th,  185  J. 


CHAPTER  II. 


As  William  White  walked  leisurely  toward 
his  humble  home  that  evening  he  revolved 
many  plans  in  his  mind  for  making  the  visit 


of  his  friends  agreeable.  He  thought  first 
of  entertaining  them  at  his  residence,  but  im- 
mediately abandoned  this  idea  on  account 
of  his  limited  accommodations.  He  had  sev- 
eral beds,  but  lacked  bed-clothes.  "  To  be 
sure,"  said  he,  "  I  might  get  a  few  soft  sheets 
at  the  office,  but  warm  as  this  July  weather 
is,  these  Avould  be  an  insufficient  protection 
from  the  nocturnal  chill.  I  could  fill  each 
couch  with  monthly-report  blanks,  and  thus 
amply  blank  it,  but  that  would  not  do  either," 
and  he  speedily  banished  the  mental  sug- 
ge  tion.  He  could  not  permit  them  to  re- 
pose in  the  office,  as  they  would  be  in  danger 
from  the  rats  that  made  their  abode  there, 
and  which,  in  their  famished  state,  he  sus- 
pected of  subsisting  upon  his  blue  vitriol  and 
other  supplies.  It  would  not  be  exactly  in 
accordance  with  manliness  to  keep  them  walk- 
ing all  night,  but,  he  soliloquised,  "I  have 
many,  many  times  roamed  the  village  all 
night  mj'self,  though,  to  be  sure,  I  was  too 
full  of  invigorating  beverages  to  be  either 
responsible  for  the  deed  or  conscious  of  weari- 
ness." 

Thus  did  White  practice  his  inveterate 
habit  of  punning,  even  while,  as  in  the  pres- 
ent instance,  he  was  serious  in  his  thoughts. 
It  was  his  nature  to  give  them  an  expression 
of  levity,  deriving,  as  he  did,  a  complacent 
merriment  by  so  doing. 

But  suddenly  settling  his  mind  to  a  sober 
train  of  thought,  he  ceased  to  view  the  plans 
of  entertainment  lightly,  and  began  to  gravely 
consider  what  his  mode  of  operation   should 
be.     He  was   not   abundantly  favored   with 
worldly  goods,  and  the  prospect  of  becoming 
so  on  a  salary  of  thirty-eight  dollars  a  month 
was  not  very  cheering.     His  heart  was  large, 
his  impulses  generous  and  sincere,  and  his  de- 
votion to  friends  and  acquaintances  always 
of  the  most  sterling  and  noble  character.     He 
was  so  overjoyed  at  the  prospect  of  the  plea- 
sure that  the  visit  of  his  five  friends  would 
create  that  he   had  not  given  the  subject  of 
the  manner  of  their  entertainment  the  least 
reflection.     He  was  just  now  without  money, 
and   wending   his  way  homeward  the   con- 
sciousness of  this  fact  presented  itself  vividly 
before  him,  creating  a  feeling  of  depression 
and  despair,  which  contrasted  strongly  with 
his  naturally  jocund  nature.     "  What  shall  I 
do  ?  "  he  asked  of  himself,  destitute  of  hope 
and  little  surmising  that  the  question  would 
be  answered  so  suddenly,  and  the  seemingly 
insurmountable  obstacle  of  penury  removed. 
As  he  propounded  this   query  to  himself  he 
involuntarily  raised    his  eyes,    and   a  sign 


78 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


above  a  store  which  he  was  at  that  instant 
passing,  arrested  liis  attention.  It  read 
'"AiJUAnAM  Israel,  Fa\VTibroker."  In  his  vest 
pocket  lie  carried  a  beautiful  gold  watch,  be- 
queathed to  him  by  his  dying  father  three 
years  before,  who,  in  lianding  his  boy  the 
precious  relic,  said  :  "  William,  my  son,  this 
Avatch  I  leave  you.  Keep  it,  guard  it  well. 
In  future  times  its  presence  will  recall  the 
memory  of  happy  days  spent  ere  I  met  the 
adver.sity  that  deprived  me  of  fortune  and 
courage." 

AVilliam  stopped  outside  the  store.  "  How 
easily  "  he  thought,  "  I  can  pawn  my  watch 
and  raise  the  necessary  cash  !"  He  drew  forth 
the  beautiful  gold  emblem  from  its  repository. 
It  was  just  as  bright  and  perfect  as  when 
taken  from  the  parental  hand  three  years  ago. 
His  father's  injunction  came  up  vividly  before 
him,  "  Keep  it ;  guard  it  well,"  and  the 
words  seemed  written  upon  his  burning 
brain  in  letters  of  fire,  standing  out  clear  and 
lurid.  He  restored  the  treasured  souvenir 
to  his  vest  pocket.  Then  casting  hurried, 
searching  glances  iip  and  down  the  street,  at 
the  housetops,  and,  lastly,  at  the  twinkling 
stars  above,  he  quickly  opened  the  door, 
entered  the  pawnbroker's  shop,  and  stepped 
np  to  the  counter.  Tiie  contents  of  the  place 
were  such  as  are  ordinarily  seen  in  shops  of 
this  character — a  profusion  of  clothing  of  all 
kinds,  children's  garments,  gentlemen's  ap- 
parel, ladies'  habiliments,  fine  silk  dresses, 
costly  furs,  elegant  camel's  hair  shawls,  rich 
jewelry  of  all  values  and  patterns,  magnificent 
diamonds,  gold  and  .silver  watches,  sets  of 
'furniture,  unique  in  design  and  of  rare  mater- 
ial, piled  about  in  graceless  confusion,  and 
speaking  of  the  dire  distress  into  which  ad- 
verse circumstances  had  plunged  those  who 
had  left  them  here.  What  misery  and  agony, 
tears  and  sighs  of  regret  the  loss  of  these 
articles  must  have  caused.  What  a  pitiful 
history  must  be  contained  in  them.  What 
Iiappy  days  and  scenes  were  known  by  their 
original  possessors  ere  the  stern  and  inexor- 
able decree  of  necessity  wrested  them  away, 
and  consigned  them  to  the  flinty-liearted  and 
unnatural  being  who  now  claimed  them ! 
These  thoughts  rushed  through  White's 
mind  in  rapid  succession  as  he  gazed  around 
the  shop,  and  his  heart  experienced  a  violent 
throb  as  the  possibility  of  his  soon  becoming 
a  patron  of  this  miserable  place  occurred  to 
him  with  startling  suddenness.  "I  must 
not  give  way  to  such  thoughts,"  he  whispered, 
and  forthwith  he  administered  three  rapid  and 
vigorous  thumps  upon   the   counter,   at   the 


fame  time  exclaiming,  "  Who  works  this  cir- 
cuit? Answer  quick  for  business."  AVIicther 
this  specimen  of  telegraphic  ])arlanoe  was 
comprehended  "by  the  Jew  or  not,  it  is  quite 
certain  that  it  liad  the  desired  eftect,  for 
from  out  the  folds  of  the  silk  dresses  came  a 
decrepit  old  man,  whose  bent  form  and 
wizzened  features  betokened  extreme  old 
age.  Everything  about  him,  except  his  eyes, 
winch  shone  with  a  shrewd  and  dazzling 
freshness,  and  his  general  facial  expression 
of  unbounded  greed,  indicated  physical 
decay.  He  approached,  rubbing  his  blood- 
less hands  together,  while  on  his  face  he 
wore  that  bland  and  dangerous  smile  that  a 
spider  is  supposed  to  have  preparatory  to 
entrapping  a  harmless  fly.  As  he  opened  his 
mouth  to  sj^eak  the  fact  was  revealed  of  his 
having  but  two  teeth,  one  upon  the  upper 
jaw,  the  other  on  the,  lower,  the  latter  being 
exactly  beneath  the  former,  so  that  with  the 
mouth  closed  they  rested  upon  each  other, 
precisely  as  the  two  small  pieces  of  platinum 
in  a  telegraph  key  rest  with  a  closed  circuit. 

"  Goot  eefning,  my  frent,  goot  eefning. 
Nice  vedder  oud.  Vot  can  I  do  to  pleas  dee 
yoong  shentlemens  ?  Speak  avay.  Speak 
avay.    Doo  you  vant  some  gold  to  borrow?  " 

Thus  he  spoke,  and  White  stood  in  silent 
meditation.  And  now,  gentle  reader,  were 
you  ever  in  a  situation  similar  to  that  of 
White  ?  Poor  and  needy,  to  have  money 
was  imperative,  to  get  it,  diflicult.  Would 
you  blame  him  if  he  took  his  father's  parting 
gift  from  his  jjocket,  and,  with  the  sincerest 
intentions  of  redeeming  it  at  some  more 
prosperous  time,  entrusted  it  to  the  person 
who  now  stood  before  him  ?  In  view  of  the 
pressing  circumstances  of  the  youth,  would 
you  censure  the  action  and  condemn  the 
young  man  as  faithless  to  a  dying  parent's 
admonition?  I  see  you  hesitate — a  wavering 
doubt  controls  you,  and  you  scarcely  know 
what  reply  to  give.  AVell,  it  was  not  so  with 
our  hero.  He  had  not  the  sliglitest  idea  of 
parting  with  his  gold  watch,  and  if  he  had 
for  a  moment  seriously  entertained  the 
thought  of  committing  such  a  deed,  he  would 
have  accused  himself  of  base  ingratitude,  and 
stigmatized  himself  as  dishonorable  and  un- 
grateful. Oh,  no  !  Such  a  thought  was  far 
from  his  mind  from  the  very  first.  ]3ut  he 
liad  a  cheap  silver  watch  in  another  pocket, 
and  a  plain  gold  ring  on  his  finger,  and  it 
was  to  ])awn  these  that  he  entered  the  shop 
of  the  three  pendant  balls,  in  which  we  find 
him  negotiating  a  loan. 

"  Ah !    good  evening,  Jim.     Rather  com- 


THE  VOW  OF  TEE  SIX  T2LEGRAPH  OPERATORS. 


79 


pact  and  cozy  here.  I  believe  this  ia  a  money 
order  office?"  said  White,  in  reply  to  the 
Jew's  salutation. 

"  Mooney  orter  office !  Vat  you  mean  ? 
I'm  see  man  vot  gif  mooney  on  dee  ardickles, 
but  I  don't  vas  gif  mooney  orters.  AVrong 
blace,  young  veller — wrong  blace." 

"  No,  Jim ;  your  copy  above  the  door 
reads  plain.  This  is  the  right  place.  What 
I  camo  hero  for  Avas  to  have  some  cash  ad- 
vanced on  these  trinkets.  Now,  do  you 
*  13  ?  '  "  asked  White,  producing  the>«silver 
watch  and  ring. 

"  Ha  !  ha  J  ha !  "  laughed  the  Jew.  "I  see 
now,  young  vellar.  llight  at  home  on  dees 
little  madders." 

"  Now,  then  ;  how  much  can  you  let  me 
have  on  these  ?  I  hate  to  part  with  'em,  but 
the  law  of  necessity  is  strict  and  pressing, 
and  I  must.  Name  a  good  round  sum,  old 
man." 

"  Veil,  young  veller,"  replied  the  Jew,  "  a 
goot  round  zuni  is  O,"  and  he  raised  his  hand 
■with  his  thumb  and  forefinger  together,  de- 
scribing a  circle,  "but  dot  would  be  doo 
mean.  I'll  gif  you  ten  dollars  for  six  days. 
If  you  don't  vas  cum  back  on  the  exshpecto- 
ration  of  six  days  you  vorfeit  die  ardicles.  If 
you  do  cum  back  you  can  haf  die  ardicles  on 
the  bayment  of  fifteen  toUus,  right  avay ;  or, 
in  udder  vords,  you  allow  boor  Israel  fife 
tollus  inderest  money.  And  now,  young  vel- 
ler, to  use  your  own  vords.  Do  you  '  13  ?'" 

White  felt  like  laughing,  but  he  restrained 
the  desire,  and  seriously  said :  "  That  is  rather 
a  large  sum,  Israel ;  fifty  per  cent  interest  is 
enormous  for  a  wreck's  use  of  money.  It  is 
usury  of  the  most  marked  kind." 

"Veil,  young  veller,  you  know  my  derms. 
If  you  don't  like  'em  you  can  go  somevare 
else.  I  can't  shtop  to  make  barguns  mit  a 
man  wlio  don't  vant  todrade,"  and  he  started 
from  the  counter. 

Now,  White  had  no  intention  of  allowing 
such  a  glorious  opportunity  to  pass  by  unim- 
proved, so  he  said : 

"  Very  well,  Jim,  I'm  hard  up  and  will  take 
the  money." 

But  Israel,  with  a  cunning  peculiar  to  his 
race  and  profession,  was  not  unmindful  of 
the  fact  that  when  a  man  confesses  that  he  is 
"  hard  up,"  he  is  then  only  the  more  suscepti- 
ble of  being  mercilessly  imposed  upon  by 
taking  advantage  of  his  necessities. 

"  Led  me  inshpect  die  ardicles  a  leedlo 
closer,"  said  he. 

White  handed  them  to  him,  and,  after  a 
moment's    deliberation,    the    Jew    returned 


them,  saying,  "The  meddle  of  the  watch  is 
vorn  out — cases  too  thin.  I  take  back  my 
ofier  of  ton  tollus,  young  veller ;  can't  gif 
but  eight." 

"Only  eight?"  said  White,  greatly  taken 
aback  by  the  change  aflTairs  had  assumed. 
"  Wliy,  you  extortionate  old  fraud,  I — "  but 
he  restrained  his  rising  indignation,  realizing 
that  lie  might  blast  his  hopes  if  he  yielded 
to  the  temptation  to  tell  tlie  Jew  how  much 
he  loved  him.  "  Well,  give  me  the  eight 
dollars,  and  let's  have  no  more  words  about 
it.  I  suj)pose  you  want  me  to  sign  docu- 
ments of  agreement  ?" 

"Yes,  yes;  dis  way,  young  veller,"  said 
Israel,  leading  White  toward  a  dilapidated 
old-fashioned  writing-desk  just  beyond  the 
end  of  the  counter.  The  desk  had  evidently 
seen  long  service,  and  besides  being  scratched 
and  soiled  with  time,  one  of  its  legs  was  gone, 
and  the  place  supplied  by  a  small  dry-goods 
box,  which,  to  all  appearances,  was  used  for 
no  other  earthly  purpose. 

By  Avay  of  explanation  of  what  is  to  fol- 
low, it  may  be  well  to  inform  the  reader 
that  White  had  an  inveterate  habit  of  kick- 
ing out  with  his  right  leg  whenever  he  seated 
himself  at  a  desk  or  table.  The  result  of  this 
practice  was  not  unfrequently  very  painful 
to  the  shins  of  those  who  happened  to  be 
in  close  proximity  to  the  ungovernable  mem- 
ber, and  though  the  howls  of  rage  and  agony 
that  followed  the  action  were  frequent  and 
unmistakably  genuine,  yet  they  failed  in 
breaking  White  of  the  obnoxious  habit,  and 
the  motion  was  still  common  to  him.  He 
perched  himself  upon  a  high  stool  that  tlie 
Jew  had  provided,  and,  after  an  instant's  de- 
lay, as  if  to  assure  himself  of  the  security  of 
his  position,  he  launched  out  his  leg,  striking 
the  dry-goods  box  that  propped  the  table, 
upsetting  the  box,  writing-desk,  and  himself, 
and  strewing  the  floor  with  articles  of  va- 
rious characters. 

"  Hell  und  ten  tousend  blazes ! "  screamed 
the  Jew.     "  Vat  are  you  up  to  ?  " 

"What  am  I  up  to?"  repeated  White. 
"  Well,  I  don't  know,  but  I  feel  as  if  I  M'as 
up  to  my  neck  in  dirt !  "  .  "  But,"  he  went 
on,  laughingly  rising  out  of  the  debris,  "  I 
beg  your  pardon  for  the  ofiense,  and  will  help 
you  restore   things  to  their  proper  places." 

This  apology  seemed  to  satisfy  the  old 
man,  and  together  they  set  to  work  to  re- 
place things.  In  gathering  up  the  scattered 
eflects,  what  was  White's  surj^rise  to  discover 
four  registers  and  relays  entirely  new,  six 
rolls  of  register  paper,  three  pairs  of  line- 


80 


LIOHTNINO  FLASHES. 


man's  pliers,  several  small  coils  of  fine  office- 
wire,  and  many  other  things  incidental  to  a 
telegraph  office. 

TJie  discovery  -was  very  agreeable  to  him. 
It  was  only  three  months  ])revious  that  his 
office  had  been  burglariously  entered  and 
robbed  oi"  a  large  quantity  of  telegraph  ma- 
terial of  this  description,  which  he  had  only 
received  from  headquarters  a  few  days  be- 
Ibre.  Diligent  search  by  detectives  had 
availed  nothing,  and  the  matter  reposed  in 
mystery,  and  was  now  almost  entirely  for- 
gotten. How  strange  that  it  should  be 
bruusiht  to  liijht  in  this  manner  at  last,  when 
no  thought  was  given  to  such  a  contmgency. 
Surely  all  that  we  do  is  the  result  of  some 
unseen  power.  "NV^e  must  recognize  this  fact 
in  the  face  of  such  testimony  as  this. 

"  Luck  enough  for  one  day,"  said  White 
to  himself.  "  1  will  use  the  means  that  Fate 
has  placed  at  my  disposal,  and  besides  re- 
storing the  articles  to  the  company,  will 
make  the  incident  be  profitable  to  myself." 

"  Look  here,  old  man,"  said  he  aloud,  "  this 
collection  of  telegraph  instruments,  wire, 
and  tools  is  stolen  property.  It  belongs  to 
the  company  of  which  1  am  an  agent.  These 
things  now  scattered  on  your  fioor  were 
taken  from  the  office  on  Asylum  Street  three 
months  ago,  and  you,  sir,  are  in  my  power." 
"  Oh,  vat  you  giffin'  us,  roosder  ?  You  can't 
schgare  me  in  my  own  house.  Vat  you  take 
me  for,  right  avay  ?"  and  Israel  endeavored  to 
display  the  greatest  amount  of  nonchalance 
possible — a  sentiment,  however,  that  he  did 
not  feel — for  he  realized  intensely  his  haz- 
ardous position,  and  sought,  by  assuming  an 
indifference  on  the  subject,  to  force  White  to 
abandon  his  suspicions. 

White  was  not  to  be  thwarted  thus,  and 
looking  sternly  at  the  Jew,  said,  "  O.  K., 
my  aged  fraud,  I  will  see  what  the  police 
can  do  to  change  your  tune."  He  hurried  to 
the  door,  but  ere  he  could  reach  it  the  voice 
of  the  Jew  forced  him  to  stop,  and  presently 
the  old  man,  seizing  him  by  the  coat-tails, 
fell  upon  his  knees,  and  in  tones  of  pitiful 
entreaty  supplicated  him  to  proceed  no 
further. 

"Don't  exscpose  me,  young  veller.  My 
drade  will  be  ruined  and  I  will  be  arrested 
and  imprisoned,  and  Aviil  die  in  jail — die  in 
jail — die  in  jail !  "  and  he  repeated  the  words 
each  time  more  sadly  and  slowly  than  before. 
His  fears  were  of  the  most  powerful  nature. 
His  body  was  all  of  a  tremor.  The  bland 
smile  of  a  few  minutes  ago  had  gone,  and  in 
its  place  an  altered  expression  of  misery  and 


horror  which  the  dread  of  exposure  had  cre- 
ated. For  once,  at  least,  the  Jew  was  sin- 
cere in  his  motives.  Artifice  and  deceit  were 
now  impotent,  and  he  appreciated  the  im- 
portance of  candor  in  every  action. 

"Oh,  young  veller,  don't  gif  me  avay. 
Don't  egsclipose  me.  I  am  a  miserable  olt 
man.  My  life  will  be  short  in  jail.  Oh, 
don't  gif  me  avay.  Don't  betray  me."  And 
he  wept  piteously.  "Led  me  seddle  dee 
madder  in  sum  vay,  young  veller.  I  will  gif 
you  back  dee  ardicles  and  a  goot  rount  sum 
of  mooney.  Say,  young  veller,  vill  you  gon- 
sent  ':*  Oh,  say  yes  !  say  yes !  for  I  am  a 
miserable  olt  man." 

"Look  here,  Israel,"  said  White,  "I  don't 
want  to  ruin  you — neither  do  I  wish  to  pro- 
tect a  thief,  and  thus  sanction  roguery.  It  is 
evident  that  you  stole  these  goods  from  my 
office,  and — 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  young  veller,  I  didn't  shteel 
'em.  I  burchased  dee  ardicles  from  two  vel- 
lers  who  brought  'em  here,  overins:  'em  vor 
leedle  or  nodding.  Dee  brice  vas  so  schmall, 
and  dee  ardicles  so  nice,  I  vorgot  my  bru- 
dcnce  and  bought  'em  for  fife  tollus,"  said  he, 
still  weeping. 

"  Even  so,"  replied  W^hite,  "  you  are  a 
receiver  of  stolen  goods,  and  the  law — just 
and  impartial — will  not  make  your  offense 
and  its  punishment  the  less." 

These  words  only  caused  the  tears  of  Israel 
to  flow  Avith  renewed  vigor.  Clutching  with 
his  skinny,  bloodless  fingers  the  few  strag- 
gling locks  of  hair  that  Time  had  left  him, 
with  his  attenuated  body  rocking  rapidly  to 
and  fro,  he  ran  rapidly  across  the  shop,  ex- 
claiming: 

"  Woe,  woe,  woe  !  Miserable  olt  man  ! 
Woe,  woe,  woe  !  Don't  egschpose  me,  young 
veller.     Woe,  woe,  woe  !  " 

White,  much  as  he  felt  for  the  old  man's 
grief,  could  not,  with  his  great  love  for  a 
joke,  suppress,  even  here,  the  merriment  that 
this  scene  prompted.  The  galloping  appear- 
ance of  the  old  man,  coupled  with  his  excla- 
mations of  "  Woe,  woe,  woe !  "  which,  Avith 
the  Hebrew  accent  given,  it  sounded  like 
AVhoa,  whoa,  whoa!  caused  White  to  laugh 
vociferously.  Grasping  the  old  pawnbroker 
by  the  shoulders,  he  held  him  securely,  at  the 
same  time  shouting  with  hearty  emphasis, 
"  Now,  whoa  !  lohoa  !  wiioa  ! "  This  action 
had  a  two-fold  effect.  First,  of  restoring  the 
Jew  to  presence  of  mind,  and  secondly,  of 
putting  White  into  a  state  of  good  humor 
and  amiability.  The  Jew  suddenly  recol- 
lected that  White  was  in  need  of  money,  and 


THE  VOW  OF  SIX  TELEGRAPH  OPERATORS. 


81 


concluded  that  the  most  effective  means  of 
exacting  a  promise  of  secrecy  was  to  pander 
to  his  cupidity  rather  than  to  his  sympathy. 

"  Say,  young  veller,"  said  lie,  "  You  vant 
mooney  iint  I  vant  safety.  I  vill  gif  you  a 
hundred  toUus,  gif  back  dee  shtolen  goods, 
and  do  you  vavor  venever  I  gan,  if  you  vill 
say  nodding  ahoud  dis  leedle  avair.  Vot  do 
you  say,  young  veller  ?  " 

AVhite  hesitated  a  few  moments  lost  in 
thought,  revolving  in  his  mind  the  question 
of  right  and  wrong.  He  would  not  wittingly 
be  a  party  to  a  nefarious  contract,  but  his 
necessities  were  so  pressing  that  he  might 
make  very  little  distinction  between  a  nefa- 
rious contract  and  a  just  one.  "After  all," 
thought  he,  "  the  Jew  may  have  bought  these 
thin  ITS  without  intending  to  receive  stolen 
goods,  and  perhaj)S  he  is  an  innocent  man." 
Tlien    turning   to  the  pawnbroker,  he  said  : 

"  Give  me  the  hundred,  old  man,  give  me 
the  hundred,  and  I  promise  to  guard  your 
secret  as  sacredly  as  I  would  the  contents  of 
a  message.  Keturn  the  stolen  articles  to  my 
office  on  Asylum  Street,  label  them  carefully, 
"  liemorse  and  Restitution,"  I  will  acquaint 
my  officers  of  their  restoration,  and  no  one 
will  ever  know  anything  about  the  affair." 

The  Jew  was  delighted  at  the  success  of 
his  proposition,  and  willingly  presented  the 
cash,  saying,  "Don't  gif  me  avay.  Don't 
egschpose  me.  I  am  somedimes  a  miserable 
olt  man,  and  somedimes  a  habby  olt  roosdcr. 
llemember,  voung  veller." 

Our  hero,  now  well  furnished  with  money 
for  the  morrow,  left  the  pawn-shop  with  a 
light  heart,  little  dreaming  that  the  hundred 
dollars  was  counterfeit,  which,  let  me  say,  in 
justice  to  Israel,  was  given  without  intention, 
the  old  man  having,  in  his  perturbation,  taken 
it  from  the  wrong  side  of  his  plethoric  wallet. 

The  evening  was  now  considerably  ad- 
vanced. White  quickened  his  footsteps  and 
kept  on  his  course,  never  stopi)ing,  except 
now  and  then  to  reply  to  a  friendly  saluta- 
tion from  the  by-stauders,  who  admired  him 
with  that  intensity  that  children  possess  for 
a  magician,  for  in  that  day  telegraphy  was 
an  art  of  deep  and  sacred  mystery  to  the 
outside  world,  and  its  followers  were  looked 
upon  with  wonder.  Having  reached  his  un- 
jnetentious  domicile,  he  was  welcomed  by 
his  mother,  who  expressed  surprise  at  his  long 
detention. 

"  Of  course  you  know,  mother,  that  in  our 
business  Ave  quite  often  have  special  reports 
for  the  papers,  which,  coming  at  no  partic- 
ular hour,  are  apt  vO  detain  us." 


"  Yes,"  she  replied. 

"  Well,  it  is  owing  to  '  special '  business 
that  I  am  late  to-night,"  said  he,  and  dis- 
missing the  matter,  he  commenced  eatin^r  liis 
supper.  He  ate  very  voraciously,  and  hav- 
ing linished,  he  lay  down  upon  a  lounge,  and, 
after  perusing  for  two  hours  a  favorite  book 
of  his,  entitled,  "•  IIow  to  Clean  Batteries 
Without  Swearing,"  he  retired  to  his  couch 
and  peacefully  slept. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

The  bright  rays  of  a  summer  sun  shone 
brilliantly  upon  Hartlbrd,  Conn.,  on  the  morn 
of  July  4th,  1851,  and  augured  a  propitious 
day  ibr  the  great  horse-race.  The  entire  pop- 
ulation of  the  city  was  early  astir,  and  the 
streets  exhibited  an  animation  as  rare  as  it 
was  pleasing.  Gaudy  decorations  were  visi- 
ble on  all  of  the  public  buildings,  vari-colored 
streamers  danced  from  the  mast-heads  of  the 
vessels  at  the  wharves,  the  roar  of  cannonry 
Avas  heard  coming  from  different  quarters  of 
the  city,  and  many  other  demonstrations 
combined  to  prove  that  the  day  was  to  be 
fittingly  observed.  The  citizens,  Avith  com- 
mendable zeal,  had  left  nothing  undone  in 
their  desire  to  have  a  celebration  eminently 
Avorthy  of  the  great  event  Avhich  it  commem- 
orated. All  citizens,  irrespective  of  nation- 
ality, Avere  replete  with  fervent  enthusiasm; 
and  no  less  so  were  the  five  young  operators 
Avhom  Ave  find  approaching  Hartlbrd  by 
train,  eager  to  reach  their  destination.  As 
they  are  en  route  to  the  city,  and  while  Ave 
await  their  arrival,  it  may  be  excusable  to 
give  a  short  description  of  tlie  youths,  pre- 
paratory to  a  more  formal  introduction. 

Fred  Green,  of  Waterbury,  is  a  youth  of 
twenty,  rather  short  in  stature,  Avith  hair  of 
a  bright,  glossy  red,  cut  extremely  short,  and 
as  he  never  permits  his  moustache  to  grow, 
the  belief  is  engendered  that  he  dislikes  that 
too  common  hue  so  much  as  to  discourage 
its  development. 

Coming  in  another  direction,  but  with  the 
same  object  in  view,  Avere  the  four  others. 
They  had  all  met  in  New  Haven,  to  go  thence 
to  Hartford,  and  having  procured  free-trip 
passes  Avithout  difficulty,  secured  seats  to- 
gether on  the  train,  and  Avere  passing  the 
time  pleasantly  together  to  their  journey's 
end.  With  Avhat  pride  and  joy  their  young 
eyes  folloAved  the  delicate  thread-like  tele- 
graph lines  upon  the  poles,  as  if  they  might 
read  the  Avords  that  were  flashinsr  along,  and 
when,  ever  and  anon,  their  sharp  glances  dis- 


82 


LIOnTNINO  FLASHES. 


covered  an  insulator  raissinc:,  they  would  fain 
stop  the  train  and  supply  the  loss. 

Augustus  Ballon,  of  New  Haven,  and 
Frank  Gray,  of  New  London,  sat  together. 
The  former  is  a  true  type  of  manly  beauty. 
An  abundance  of  dark  ringlets  nestles  uj)on 
a  classically-formed  head  ;  eyes  dark  as  night 
and  full  of  expression  comi)are  well  with  the 
fiinily  set  li])S  beneath  them,  indicative  of  a 
thoroughly  courageous  and  dauntless  spirit. 
A  dark,  curling  moustache  adorns  his  face. 
Tall  and  erect,  with  a  physique  perfect  in 
symmetrical  beauty,  he  bears  unmistakable 
signs  of  a  leader.  His  immediate  associate, 
Frank  Gray,  is  cast  in  an  entirely  difierent 
mold.  Of  average  height  and  build,  features 
delicate,  but  not  effeminate;  hair  of  a  rich, 
dark  brown  color;  eyes  of  blue,  and  with 
expression  mild  and  gentle ;  complexion  light, 
but  ruddy  with  health.  He  was  well  suited 
to  converse  with  Ballon,  whose  spirit,  strong 
and  impulsive,  required  a  soothing,  placating 
nature  like  that  of  Gray  to  hold  it  in  check. 

In  the  opposite  scat  sat  Tom  Brown,  of 
Norwich,  and  Harry  Black,  of  Bridgeport ; 
both  of  medium  stature  and  of  light  com- 
plexion. The  only  diflerence  between  their 
a]>pearance — indeed  a  very  marked  one — Avas 
that  Black  was  fat  and  corpulent,  while 
Brown  was  lean  and  emaciated,  the  former's 
voice  being  deep,  deliberate,  and  sonorous, 
the  latter's  sharp  and  rapid. 

None  of  the  party  exceeded  twenty  years 
of  age,  and  they  were  as  noisy  and  jocose  as 
youthful  spirits  are  wont  to  be — particularly 
when  in  pursuit  of  pleasure — and  as  they 
Avere  all  securely  fortified  against  the  emer- 
gencies of  travel  by  the  possession  of  snug 
sums  of  money,  varying  from  forty  to  one 
hundred  dollars,  it  is  presumed  they  were 
proportionately  happy.  Along  the  route  the 
conversation  of  the  lour  youths  was  of  the 
most  animated  and  sparkling  character,  as 
the  continuous  peals  of  laughter  attested, 
the  subjects  of  their  conversation  being 
themselves  and  the  young  ladies  throughout 
the  State  with  whom  they  were  severally  in- 
timate. Notwithstanding  their  hilarity,  a 
person  listening  to  the  talk  would  have  ob- 
served that  many  serious  and  quite  natural 
facts  were  developed,  and  that  the  youths 
were  much  more  in  earnest  than  they  pre- 
tended. The  disclosures  were  made  that 
Ballon  had  a  strong  admiration,  not  to  say 
love,  for  a  certain  Miss  Lilly  Gregory,  of 
Meriden,  Conn.,  whom  he  had  been  intro- 
duced to  over  the  line  by  the  Meriden  oper- 
ator.    He  was  a  regular  and  esteemed  cor- 


respondent, and  had  progressed  so  far  in  her 
favor  as  to  have  called  upon  her  at  the  Meri- 
den telegraj)h  office,  where  he  was  received 
with  unmistakable  pleasure. 

Miss  Gregory  was  but  sixteen.  Her  father 
had  accumulated  great  wealth  in  the  manu- 
facture of  cotton  fabrics,  and  still  continued 
the  business,  controlling  several  large  mills. 
Lilly  was  his  only  child,  beautiful  and  ac- 
complished, the  idol  of  her  parents,  and  pos- 
sessed a  disposition  as  winning  as  it  was 
frank  and  unassuming.  She  loved  Ballon 
devotedly,  and  upon  his  making  two  or  three 
visits  to  her  father's  elegant  residence,  he 
was  received  by  them  with  that  marked  hos- 
pitality that  is  ever  extended  to  a  person  on 
a  mission  similar  to  that  of  Ballon,  viz. :  in- 
troducing a  private  telegraph  line  from  Mr. 
Gregory's  mansion  to  his  distant  mills.  The 
affection  existing  between  the  two  was 
wholly  unknown  to  the  father,  and  hence  he 
found  no  opposition  from  that  quarter. 

Gray's  affection  was  centered  in  a  young 
lady  of  Middletown,  a  Miss  Rose  Beverly, 
Avhom  he  had  met  at  the  house  of  a  friend 
at  New  London.  From  the  time  of  his  in- 
troduction his  friendship  had  gradually,  but 
unconsciously,  ripened  into  love — a  senti- 
ment that  the  young  lady  returned  with  visi- 
ble ai"dor.  He  intended  to  make  her  his  wife 
on  the  attainment  of  her  nineteenth  birth- 
day, for  which  he  had  one  year  to  wait. 

Green  was  less  fortunate  in  his  efforts  in 
this  direction  than  those  already  described. 
His  red  hair  was  an  insuperable  obstacle  to 
his  progress  with  the  gentler  sex.  He  even 
despaired  of  ever  having  the  good  fortune 
to  secure  a  helpmate  through  life,  and  as  he 
had  voAved  to  remain  single  rather  than 
marry  a  telegraph  operator,  his  chances  were 
indeed  slim,  for  even  at  that  early  day,  as  at 
the  present  time,  there  were  few  mai-riagea- 
ble  feminines  outside  the  pale  of  its  motherly 
protection. 

]]lack,  of  Bridgeport,  and  Brown,  of  Nor- 
wich, had  very  little  familiarity  with  the  op- 
posite sex,  and  in  both  cases  it  was  attribu- 
table to  bashfulness,  or,  as  we  now  classically 
term  it,  alack  of  "  cheek" — something,  how- 
ever, that  no  operator  in  the  profession  lacks 
now-a-days,  for  if  they  did  the  myriads  of 
plugs  would  never  receive  the  constant  and 
varied  abuse  that  every  operator  feels  it  his 
duty  to  sliower  upon  them.  The  bashful- 
ness of  Black  and  Brown  was  of  an  entirely 
opposite  character,  however.  Brown  would 
not  speak  to  a  young  lady  for  all  the  old 
zincs   and  porous  cups  owned  by  the  com- 


THE  VOW  OF  THE  SIX  T3LE0RAPU  OPERATORS. 


83 


pjiny ;  and  if,  when  working  with  a  distant 
station,  the  lady  operator  should  ask,  "  Is 
that  you,  Tommie?"  a  nervous  tremor  would 
seize  him,  and  he  would  break  and  break  all 
day  upon  the  circuit  just  like  an  accomplished 
and  full-fledged  plug. 

Bashfulness  afiected  Black  in  a  diflerent 
manner,  however,  and  would  show  itself 
only  when  he  was  face  to  face  with  the  cause 
of  it.  He  daily  conversed  over  the  line  with 
a  young  female  operator  a  few  miles  from  his 
office,  and  manifested  a  coolness  and  sang 
froid  on  such  occasions  that  was  perfectly 
refreshing.  One  day  the  young  lady  said, 
"  Harrj^  I  am  to  be  in  Bridgeport  this  after- 
noon," and  Black  made  arrangements  ac- 
cordingly to  avoid  seeing  her.  To  speak 
over  the  wire  was  bliss,  but  to  speak  face  to 
l\ice,  misery.  Engaging  an  unemployed  op- 
erator for  the  afternoon,  he  hurried  away 
from  the  office  and  sought  the  country  hills, 
where  he  might  look  down  upon  the  verdant 
fields  and  be  at  peace  with  the  whole  world. 
Thus  he  whiled  away  the  hours  until  assured 
of  her  departure  to  her  native  village,  when 
he  rambled  back  to  his  office  and  resumed  the 
reins  of  government. 

Having  thus  introduced  them,  we  will  now 
return  to  our  friend  White,  who  was  on  his 
way  to  the  depot  to  meet  his  expected  guests. 
He  had  not  as  yet  discovered  that  the  hun- 
dred dollars  was  spurious,  and  nothing  else 
had  occurred  to  depress  his  mirthful  disposi- 
tion. He  had  not  long  to  wait  ere  the  arrival 
of  Green,  which  was  soon  followed  by  that 
of  the  others.  The  necessary  ceremony  of 
introduction  having  been  performed,  the 
party  repaired  to  the  nearest  saloon  to  drink 
a  social  glass  of  wine  together — a  custom 
now  entirely  obsolete  with  operators,  whisky 
being  the  standard  beverage.  In  paying  for 
the  fluid  the  bar-keeper  remarked  to  White 
that  his  bill  was  a  bad  one,  and  added,  "  If 
you  think  yon  can  palm  ofl'such  stufl'as  that 
on  me  you  must  be  fresh." 

"  That's  a  word  you  can't  apply  to  your 
Avine,"  retorted  White.  "  It's  as  old  and  as 
sour  as  yourself.  Don't  take  me  for  a  beat ; 
Tve  got  plenty  of  stuflT,  my  friend,"  and  he 
produced  another  note — a  ten. 

"  That  is  as  bad  as  the  other,"  remarked 
the  barkeeper.  "  I  guess  you  have  struck  the 
wrong  man  to  get  rid  of  that  article." 

White  was  now  indignant,  and  feeling  the 
humiliation  that  such  insinuations  placed  him 
in  before  his  friends,  he  called  the  barkeeper 
a  "  lying  plug." 

"  Look  here,  you  counterfeiting  fraud,  it's 


bad  enough  to  offer  a  man  bad  money,  with- 
out offering  your  whelj)ish  spleen." 

White,  with  a  courage  characteristic  of  the 
craft,  struck  at  him,  but  his  arm  was  sto])ped 
by  Ballou,  who  said,  "  Come,  come,  old  man, 
no  fighting  for  circuit.  It  delays  business, 
chum." 

Gray  spoke  advisingly  to  the  barkeeper, 
and  pacified  him  by  paying  for  the  wine 
and  refusing  the  change  due  him. 

The  words  of  Ballou  prevented  what 
threatened  to  be  a  bad  beginning  of  the 
day's  sport.  A  coachman  was  hailed,  the 
party  passed  out,  and  they  were  driven  to  the 
race-course.  White  had  the  presence  of 
mind  to  stop  on  the  way  and  adjust  money 
matters  with  Israel,  receiving  twenty-five 
dollars  additional  for  the  trouble  the  mistake 
had  caused  liim.  His  words  with  the  Jew 
were  in  his  usual  strain. 

"  Jim,  I  have  returned  here  to  adjust  some- 
thing, and  I  demand  that  you  just  add  some- 
thing," and  it  was  fixed  at  twenty-five  dol- 
lars. 

Arriving  at  tlie  course,  the  party  secured 
seats  located  so  as  to  afford  a  good  view  of 
the  field,  and  having,  in  their  telegraphic  en- 
thusiasm, deposited  twenty-five  dollars  each 
in  the  pools  upon  a  horse  named  "Tele- 
graph," they  awaited  the  beginning  of  the 
sport.  At  length  the  horses,  eight  in  num- 
ber, were  led  forth  by  their  drivers  amid 
great  excitement,  hurrahing  and  waving  of 
hats  and  handkerchiefs.  Our  voung  friends 
were  very  anxious  to  see  the  horse  upon 
which  they  had  hazarded  their  coupons,  and 
upon  inquiry  the  favorite,  "  Telegraph,"  was 
pointed  out  to  them. 

"  Why,"  remarked  White,  "  he  is  an  old 
plug,  and  I'll  bet  five  dollars  his  teeth  are  as 
long  as  a  plug's  life — endless.  And,  do  you 
see,  fellows,  the  reins  are  made  of  telegraph 
wire,  and  the  harness-leather  is  taken  from 
lineman's  climbers." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ballou,  "  and  I  think  that  the 
driver  is  our  New  Haven  line-repairer.  Yes, 
it  is.     I  recognize  him  now." 

"Well,  that's  the  winning  horse,"  said 
Gray.     "  My  money  is  on  him." 

"  Yes,  and  so  is  mine,  and  the  others,  too. 
If 'Telegraph'  succeeds,  we  succeed;  if  he 
fails,  we  fail,"  remarked  Green. 

"Quite  right,  Greeny,  quite  right,"  said 
White.  "Your  words  are  just  as  true  of  our 
profession  as  they  are  of  the  horse.  Our 
business  is  now  on  trial  and  our  interests  are 
with  it." 

At  the  word  "  Go,"  the  horses  made  a 


84 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


beautiful  start,  and  Hew  around  the  course 
urged  to  their  greatest  speed.  The  eager 
eyes  of  the  multitude  followed  their  every 
motion,  and  ejaculations  that  could  not  be 
repressed  broke  forth  on  every  side.  "  Tele- 
graph "  had  up  to  the  present  maintained  the 
lead,  but  as  l)e  was  on  the  last  quarter  he  be- 
came apparently  nervous  and  unmanageable, 
and  fell  to  the  rear. 

"  Curse  the  plug !  "  ejaculated  White,  in 
wild  excitement.  "  See  him  '  break,'  see  him 
'break!"' 

"  But  look,"  said  Ballou,  in  the  happiest  of 
tones.  "  Look,  boys,  they  are  taking  him 
fi'om  the  circuit ; "  and,  sure  enough,  the 
driver  had  stopped  the  horse  and  was  lead- 
ing him  from  the  course  toward  the  stable, 
"  I  feel  well  repaid  for  my  journey,"  said 
Brown,  "  and  I  would  willingly  come  here 
again — nay,  go  around  the  world  even — to  see 
justice  so  well  administered — to  see  a  break- 
ing plug  taken  instantly  from  a  circuit !  " 

""  What  "a  hang-dog  look  the  beast  has  got," 
said  Black.  "That  is,  perhaps,  the  only  dif- 
ference between  him  and  the  telegraph  plug 
— the  latter,  instead  of  being  ashamed,  rather 
delights  in  breaking." 

"Yes,  I  always  noticed  that  when  I  had 
any  messages  to  send  you,"  said  Wiiite,  play- 
fully, causing  Brown  to  be  the  object  of 
laughter. 

"I  was  about  to  mention  your  name  as  a 
specimen,"  said  Black,  "  but  as  usual  you 
broke  me  before  I  had  finished," 

The  laugh  was  now  on  White,  but  he 
quickly  rejoined:  "It  is  quite  impossible 
that  I  broke  you — the  horse  did  that  pretty 
effectually  a  few  moments  ago." 

No  one  felt  like  laughing  at  this  reminder 
of  their  ill-luck,  and  as  they  thought  of  their 
losses  the  race  course  suddenly  seemed  too 
uncongenial  to  their  tastes,  and  Gray  pro- 
posed that  they  repair  to  the  office,  where 
they  could  find  more  pleasure. 

"  Agreed,"  said  White,  and  they  directed 
their  course  back  to  the  office.  Having 
reached  there,  and  being  politely  ushered  in 
by  White,  what  was  the  surprise  of  the 
visitors  to  find  that  a  pleasant  transformation 
had  taken  place  during  their  absence.  In 
the  center  of  the  office  stood  a  large,  plain 
table,  improvised  for  the  occasion,  and  bend- 
ing under  the  weight  of  tempting  viands, 
fruits,  cake,  boned  turkey,  and  delicately 
cooked  oysters  worthy  of  the  sumptuous 
hospitality  of  a  prince.  Six  little  urchins, 
arrayed  in  suits  made  entirely  of  the  various 
blanks  then  used  by  the  company,  noiselessly 


moved  about  the  table.  Having  arranged 
his  guests  at  the  table,,  and  filled  six  goblets 
with  champagne,  he  went  to  the  nearest  key, 
and  writing  slowly  and  distinctly  so  as  to 
obviate  breaks,  said :  "  Here  is  success  to 
our  glorious  profession.  Long  life  to  opera- 
tors— short  life  to  plugs." 

"  Amen,  to  that  sentiment,"  responded  the 
guests,  emptying  their  glasses,  which  Avere  in- 
stantly refilled  by  the  watchful  urchins. 

"A  health  to  our  noble  host,"  said  Ballou. 
"  ]May  he  never  run  short  of  message  blanks 
and  have  to  borrow  rejjort  blanks  for  his 
monthly  statement."  Again  the  glasses  were 
drained,  and  the  party  were  feeling  as  merry 
as  an  operator  on  pay-day. 

"  Say,  fellows,"  said  White,  "  look  at  our 
names,  Brown,  Gray,  Black,  Ballou,  Green, 
and  White.  In  name  we  are  not  'birds  of 
a  feather,'  but  we  are  in  trade,  and  we  will 
fiock  together.  Behold  tiie  gaudy  plumes — 
excuse  me,  plumage — that  the  association  of 
six  such  colors  will  make !  Chums,  what 
bird  do  we  most  resemble?" 

"  The  jail  bird,"  replied  Green. 

"  Yes,  your  short  hair  resembles  him,"  said 
White. 

These  repartees  were  so  good  that  tlie 
champagne  Avas  again  passed  around.  None 
of  the  party  refused,  and  having  finished  the 
banquet  and  lighted  cigars  the  party  gave 
their  attention  to  White,  who  asked  their 
serious  consideration  of  an  idea  that  sug- 
gested itself  to  him  just  at  that  moment. 

"Boys,"  said  he,  "we  have  all  been  em- 
ployed at  operating  more  than  two  years. 
As  far  as  I  can  learn,  none  of  your  positions 
are  so  desirable  but  that  they  can  be  rehn- 
quished  without  regret.  My  proposition  is 
this  :  that  we  all  resign  our  present  situations, 
leave  our  native  towns,  and  seek  positions 
elsewhere  •  continue  telegraphing  or  espouse 
another  occupation,  as  your  taste  may  dictate, 
then  meet  again  at  some  future  day  which 
we  shall  name,  and  recount  to  each  other  the 
course  of  our  travels." 

"  The  proposition  is  a  startling  one,"  said 
Ballou,  "  but  I  agree  to  do  it.  Suppose  we 
make  the  period  of  separation  twenty-five 
years  from  to-day — the  reunion  to  be  July 
4th,  1870." 

"  Yes,"  said  Black,  "  and  let  us  agree  not 
to  inquire  about  each  other  during  the  whole 
time,  nor  listen  to  others  if  they  allude  to  the 
subject." 

"  I  have  with  me,"  said  Green,  "  a  dozen 
rings  that  I  fashioned  in  my  leisui'e  time  at 
home.     Suppose  each  of  us  take  one,  wear  it 


THE  VOW  OF  THE  SIX  TELEGRAPH  OPERATORS. 


85 


(luring  our  separation,  and  guard  it  as  a 
memento  of  our  vow."  lie  produced  the 
rings  and  handed  them  to  "White  for 
distribution  to  the  party.  Much  ingenuity 
was  displayed  in  tlie  making  of  the  rings. 
The  metallic  part  consisted  of  ordinarj'  tele- 
graph line  wire,  niched  at  different  points 
throufifhout  its  entire  circumference  diamond 
shaped,  the  niches  being  filled  with  small 
fragments  of  a  broken  insulator  very  neatly 
inserted,  and  much  resembling  emeralds. 
Between  each  setting  was  engraved  a  minia- 
ture  telegraph  pole  with  two  cross-arms 
thereon.  Connecting  the  cross-arms  of  each 
pole  were  two  delicate  film-like  wires  running 
entirely  around  the  ring  and  making  two 
complete  circuits. 

The  party  all  having  agreed  to  White's 
proposition,  each  one  selected  a  ring  to  fit 
his  little  finger,  and  Ballon  wrote  the  follow- 
ing poetic  vow,  to  which  the  whole  party 
subscribed  their  names : 

We  who  sign  our  names  below, 
With  our  senses  clear  and  sound, 
Pledf^e  to  leave  our  homes  and  go 
Where  our  hearts'  desires  are  found. 
Of  each  other  ne'er  inquiring, 
To  return  not  e'er  desiring 
Till  old  Time  presents  the  day, 
Proving  that  there's  passed  away 
Five  and  twenty  complete  years. 
With  their  laughter,  sighs,  and  tears. 
Then,  and  only  then,  return, 
To  this  village  once  again. 
Tell  the  tales  both  sweet  and  stern 
Of  our  journey  o'er  the  main. 
And  to  keep  the  ring  and  vowj 
That  we  take  in  earnest  now. 

Five  o'clock  p.  m.,  July  4th,  1851. 

After  the  understanding  had  been  estab 
lished  that  they  should  meet  at  the  telegraph 
office  at  Hartford  at  the  expiration  of  the 
twenty-five  years,  the  party  left  the  office 
and  returned  to  their  respective  homes 
throughout  the  State. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Years  rolled  on.  Progressive  changes  oc- 
curred in  every  branch  of  industry.  New 
inventions  appeared,  startling  the  world  with 
their  wondrous  powers  of  utility  and  artistic 
mechanism,  the  people  of  the  country  mani- 
festly increased  in  intelligence,  and  everything 
savored  of  an  earnest  effort  to  improve  upon 
the  past.  Telegraphy  advanced  with  im- 
measurable strides.  Various  new  companies 
sprang  into  existence,  and  the  old  one  ex- 
tended its  facilities,  by  the  erection  of  new 
lines,  with  an  energy  indicative  of  present 
prosperity  and   an   auspicious   future.     The 


events  recorded  in  the  preceding  chapters  had 
become  mere  2)hantoms  of  the  ]>ast  to  all  ex- 
cept the  six  operators,  who,  scattered  around 
our  wide  land,  were  faithfully  accomplishing 
the  obligations  of  their  vow.  Ten  years  had 
elapsed,  and  nothing  had  ever  been  heard  of 
them,  when  one  day  the  mail  brought  to  the 
manager  of  the  Hartford  office  a  large  pack- 
age containing  a  letter  addressed  to  him,  en- 
closing one  hundred  dollars  and  a  sealed  let- 
ter marked,  "To  he  called  for  July  4tii, 
1876."  The  letter  to  the  manager  was  opened, 
and  read  as  follows  : 

New  York,  July  15,  1S61. 
Dear  Sir — In  a  few  days  will  be  forwarded  to  yon 
for  interment  the  ashes  of  one  who  occupied,  ten 
years  ago,  the  position  now  filled  by  you.  It  was  his 
dying  request  that  liis  remains  be  sent  to  you  to  be  con- 
signed to  a  spot  in  his  native  city,  where  the  trees, 
'ncath  which,  in  his  boyhood,  when  heated  with  exer- 
tion, he  often  sought  a  cooling  shade,  may  spread  their 
friendly  branches  o'er  his  grave.  This  place  is  near  the 
graves  of  his  parents,  James  and  Julia  White,  whose 
resting  place  can  be  found  at  the  eastern  section  of  the 
third  burial  ground.  Let  the  funeral  cortege  be  partici- 
pated in  by  all  persons  connected  with  the  telegraph 
business  of  your  citj*,  and  otherwise  have  it  as  simple 
as  possible.  I  inclose  the  sum  of  one  hundred  dollars, 
which  he  gave  me  for  the  purpose,  and  with  deep  sor- 
row for  unfortunate  William  White,  I  remain, 
Fraternally  yours, 

Frederick  Stevens, 

Telegraph  Operator. 

The  lapse  of  a  few  days  was  followed  by 
the  arrival  of  the  body.  The  manager  of 
the  office,  whose  heartiest  sympathies  had 
been  awakened  by  the  perusal  of  the  sad  let- 
ter, left  nothing  incomplete  in  making  ar- 
rangements in  compliance  with  the  wishes  of 
White,  and  the  corpse  was  placed  in  their 
last  resting  place  in  the  presence  of  all  the 
representatives  of  the  telegraphic  fraternity 
that  could  be  spared  from  duty.  The  mys- 
terious package  was  deposited  in  a  vault  of 
one  of  the  city  banks  for  safe  keeping,  and, 
though  its  strangeness  provoked  various  con- 
jectures as  to  its  contents,  yet  its  sanctity 
was  religiously  respected,  and  in  time  it  had 
ceased  to  awaken  curiosity,  and  was  almost 
foro;otten.  The  grass  and  herbage  of  the 
cemetery  grew  vigorously  upon  the  little 
mound  'neath  which  White  reposed,  the 
world's  noisy  machinery  moved  incessanth', 
telegraphic  improvements  were  developed 
from  day  to  day,  and  the  wheels  of  time 
rolled  onward  toward  eternity — never  paus- 
ing, ever  constant,  regular,  and  tireless. 

And  now,  dear  reader,  we  must  take  an 
abrupt  leave  of  these  scenes,  and  seek  our 
friends  in  their  different  fields  of  labor. 

It  is  June  2Sth,  1870.  Standing  in  a  crowd 
in  the  city  of  Chicago  on  that  day  was  a  man 
upon  whom  the  good  fortunes  of  life  had  not 


6G 


LIGniNING  FLASHES. 


perched.  On  liis  fourth  finger  he  wore  the 
peculiar  ring  that  he  liad  placed  there 
twenty-five  years  before,  at  the  Hartford  tel- 
egraph ottice,  and  as  he  heard  one  lawyer  be- 
side him  remark  to  anotlier  that  he  liad  busi- 
ness in  Hartford  July  4th,  he  appeared  greatly 
agitated,  and  hurriedly  bending  his  footsteps 
toward  the  Chicago  telegraph  oflice,  rapidly 
]>ursued  his  course  onward,  as  if  on  a  mission 
of  life  and  death.  Arriving  there  he  entered, 
and,  breathing  hard  from  the  fatigue  of  his 
rapid  walk,  told  the  manager  that  he  would 
be  unable  to  attend  to  his  duties  as  line- 
repairer  for  a  month  or  more.  He  hoped  that 
his  position  would  be  retained  for  him  until 
his  return.  "Whether  it  is  ornot,"  said  he, 
"I  must  start  immediately  for  Connecticut. 
I  am  forced  to  go."  The  manager  saw  that 
expostulations  would  be  of  no  avail,  so  ho 
promised  to  do  his  best  to  restore  the  posi- 
tion when  he  returned.  Having  obtained 
from  a  railroad  superintendent,  for  whom  he 
had  performed  many  favors,  a  pass  to  New 
York,  together  with  a  letter  of  introduction, 
to  be  shown  to  conductors  and  others  in  posi- 
tion, Harry  Black,  formerly  of  Bridgeport, 
Conn,,  took  a  train  going  east,  and  was  soon 
on  his  way  to  Hartford. 

About  the  same  time  the  good  old  ship 
"  Iceland,"  with  a  full  cargo  of  whale-oil 
and  seal-skins,  was  three  hundred  miles  out 
at  sea  on  its  homeward  voyage  from  Green- 
laud.  The  hearts  of  the  sailors  were  throb- 
bing with  the  delightful  expectations  of  set- 
ting foot  once  again  upon  their  native  land, 
and  folding  to  their  breasts  the  dear  ones  they 
had  left  three  years  before.  But  with  one  of 
the  crew  these  bright  hopes  were  tinged  with 
sadness,  for  he  feared  that  he  might  not  be 
able  to  accomplish  a  desire  that  controlled  his 
spirit. 

"What  ails  you,  mate?  Cheer  up!  Our 
voj'age  is  nearly  ended.  We  have  been 
pi'osperous  in  our  cargo  and  health,  and  now 
that  we  are  so  near  our  port  that  the  gulls 
can  be  seen  skimming  along  the  horizon, 
Frank  Gray  ought  to  be  as  jolly  as  an  Esqui- 
mau in  a  snow-storm,  and  not  heavy  and 
down  in  the  mouth  like  a  lot  of  whale's 
blubber." 

"True,  Jack,  true;  but  as  I  look  at  this 
ring  it  reminds  me  of  a  promise  I  made  many 
years  ago,  and  the  thought  of  not  being  able 
to  keep  the  promise  weighs  me  down.  I 
must  be  in  Hartford  July  4th  if  it's  in  the 
good  old  hulk  to  help  me  do  it." 

"  Well,  mate,  it  is  in  her.  And  you  will 
be  there  as  sure  as  the  compass  points  to  the 


north.  If  Ave  don't  furl  sails  and  weigh  anchor 
in  New  London  liarbor  by  July  3d,  you  can 
cut  adrift  from  my  advice  forever." 

"  I  never  knew  your  judgment  to  fail  yet. 
Jack,  and  I  will  not  doubt  it  now.  You  have 
given  me  hope,  and  I  thank  you." 

"  Don't  mention  it,  mate.  I  am  only  glad 
to  make  you  feel  like  yourself  again;"  and 
he  went  forward  whistling  "  A  Life  on  the 
Ocean  Wave." 

Gray  gazed  affectionately  at  the  ring  for  a 
moment,  sighed  deeply  as  he  noticed  several 
of  the  glass  settings  gone  from  their  places. 
"I  wonder  if  the  other  lads  have  been  so 
careless  with  theirs,"  said  he.  "  Well,  if  they 
yet  live  that  is  enough,  whatever  becomes  of 
the  rings."  A  tear  coursed  its  way  down  his 
cheek  as  he  conjured  up  the  remembrance  of 
the  past,  and  rather  than  give  w\ay  further 
he  shouted  for  the  crew  to  take  in  sail  and 
coil  the  cable,  hoping  by  being  occupied  to 
forget  the  jjossibility  of  disai^poiutment  to 
his  hopes. 

CHAPTER  V. 

What  a  change  the  city  of  Hartford  has 
undergone  in  twenty-five  years !  The  popu- 
lation and  industries  have  increased  Avith  sur- 
])rising  rapidity,  placing  the  city  among  the 
first  of  the  business  centers  of  the  country, 
and  giving  it  an  enviable  name  throughout 
the  world.  Edifices  elegant  in  design  and 
costly  to  a  degree  almost  without  estimate, 
have  arisen  in  the  places  once  occupied  by 
squatty  shanties.  The  imposing  insurance 
buildings,  the  State  capitol  building,  the  col- 
leges and  magnificent  private  residences  are 
the  subject  of  Avonderment  to  visitors  and  of 
justifiable  pride  to  the  citizens,  giving  as  they 
do  an  air  of  splendor  to  the  city,  contrasting 
strikingly  with  its  humility  in  1851.  The 
telegraphic  business  of  the  place  displays 
signs  of  a  similar,  and  even  greater,  prosper- 
ity. The  old  office  of  Asylum  Street  has 
been  surrendered  in  favor  of  the  present  com- 
modious one  on  State  Street.  The  duties  of 
the  oftice,  formerly  performed  by  White  alone, 
noAV  demand  the  services  of  a  score  of  em- 
ployes, and,  indeed,  in  any  respect  the  Hart- 
ford of  1851  Avould  not  be  recognized  in  that 
of  1876. 

It  is  noAV  July  4th.  At  an  early  hour  four 
men,  apparently  about  forty-five  years  of 
age,  are  standing  on  the  steps  of  the  Hart- 
ford telegraph  office  earnestly  shaking  hands 
and  uttering  fervent  ejaculations  of  greeting. 
Three  of  thenr  Avere  Aery  plainly,  but  neatly 
dressed,  their  apparel  indicating  them  to  be 


THE  VOW  OF  THE  SIX  TELEGRAPH  OPERATORS. 


87 


persons  of  comfortable  circumstances  in  life, 
rather  tban  of  wealth  and  refinement.  The 
fourth  was  attired  in  garments  which  sug- 
gested the  most  abject  poverty.  Tatters  and 
patches  were  visible  everywhere.  An  old 
beaver  hat,  faded  and  broken  and  much  too 
large  for  tlie  wearer,  rested  upon  his  head, 
reaching  down  to  his  ears.  A  large  rubber 
boot  on  his  right  foot  illy  compared  with  the 
leather  shoe  on  his  left,  and  indeed  the  only 
genuine  article  to  be  seen  about  him  was  the 
mirthful  expression  that  his  face  wore — as 
strange  as  it  was  constant.  And  this  is  Au- 
gustus Ballou.  This  is  the  man  whose  cour- 
ageous bearing  and  noble  qualities  evoked 
our  admiration  twenty-five  years  ago.  How 
comes  he  thus?  Why  this  strange  and  un- 
expected change  ?  But  I  will  not  anticipate 
— he  is  to  relate  the  causes  of  his  condition, 
and  I  shall  be  silent  thereon.  The  remaining 
three  are  Tom  Brown,  formerly  of  Norwich, 
Harry  Black,  whom  we  left  on  the  train  at 
Chicago,  and  Frank  Gray,  whose  fears  about 
reaching  Hartford  w^ere  not  realized.  Fred 
Green,  the  old  Waterbury  operator,  has  not 
yet  come.  They  are  chatting  gaily  togethe-i- 
upon  the  present  days,  congratulating  each 
other  upon  life  having  been  spared  them, 
and  kindred  matters  of  conversation,  but 
eschew  all  allusion  to  their  lives  and  adven- 
tures during  the  long  and  memorable  separa- 
tion— that  being  reserved  for  the  time  when 
all  shall  have  assembled.  As  they  thus  stand 
together  they  are  startled  by  a  voice,  and 
looking  up,  behold  a  man  rugged,  ragged, 
and  abandoned — a  tramp  of  the  most  con- 
firmed and  irreclaimable  stamp ;  worse  look- 
iiirr  even  than  Ballou,  for  the  latter  showed 
no  si'i-ns  of  dissipation.  And  this  is  Fred 
Green !  On  his  hand  the  admonitory  ring 
was  visible  through  the  dirt  and  scars  there- 
on, and  though  his  hair  was  disordered,  and 
manifested  a  long  freedom  from  the  labors  of 
the  comb,  still  the  red  hue  of  early  days  was 
unmistakably  there.  His  beard  had  grown 
abundantly,  nearly  covering  his  face,  and  was 
fierce  and  fearful  in  its  bristling,  red  appear- 
ance. His  nose,  from  constant  and  indiscrim- 
inate imbibings,  had  developed  a  hue  appro- 
priate to  his  beard,  yet  rivaling  it  in  its  fiery 
nature.  He  was  welcomed  as  heartily  by 
the  others  as  his  sad  state  would  permit,  and 
little  passed  in  the  way  of  conversation  for 
some  time  after  his  arrival. 

"  I  wonder  where  can  White  be,"  said 
Gray,  breaking  the  silence.  "  Of  course  none 
of  you  have  ever  heard  of  his  whereabouts — 
that  would  be  contrary  to  the  vow." 


"I  for  one  have  never  tried  to  find  any  of 
you,"  said  Ballou. 

The  others  stated  they  had  never  sought 
to,  either,  and  the  remark  of  Gray  elicited  no 
information. 

"But,"  said  Green,  who,  like  all  tramps, 
was  never  loth  in  addressing  strangers  famil- 
iarly, "  'spose  we  ask  the  proprietor  of  this 
bar — I  mean  the  manager  of  the  office — if  he 
knows  anything  about  White,"  Then  walk- 
ing boldly  up  to  the  office  counter  and  rap- 
ping thereon  he  said : 

"  Say,  boss,  can  you  tell  us  if  there's  a  chap 
working  here  by  the  name  of  Billy  White  ? 
Used  to  run  the  old  ranche  on  Asylum 
Street,  below  here,  twenty-five  years  ago.  A 
jolly  rooster  as  ever  lived.  Must  be  about 
five  and  forty  now.  He  promised  to  meet 
some  of  his  old  comrades  here  to-day,  and  we 
don't  find  him.     Do  you  know  him  '?" 

At  this  question  the  manager  murmured  to 
himself,  "  It  must  be  for  these  men  that  the 
mysterious  package  Avas  intended,"  and  then 
replying  to  Green,  said : 

"  I  can't  say  that  the  William  White  I 
have  in  my  mind  is  the  one  you  seek  for,  but 
a  package  was  received  at  this  office  fifteen 
years  ago  superscribed,  'To  be  called  for 
July  4th,  1876.'  It  was  sent  here  with  a  let- 
ter announcing  the  death  of  a  William  White, 
whose  corpse  came  a  few  days  later,  and  now 
repose  side  by  side  with  those  of  his  parents 
in  the  third  burial  ground,  Avhich  is  just  be- 
yond the  suburbs  ol  the  city." 

The  whole  party  had  followed  Green  into 
the  office  and  heard  the  sorrowful  informa- 
tion. 

"Poor  Billy,"  said  Black.  "It  is  he.  The 
best  lad  of  the  whole  lot  of  us  is  gone. 
Heaven  grant  that  he  is  happy ! "  and  his 
tears  flowed  silently  as  he  spoke.  The  others 
Avere  similarly  aft'ected,  and  bent  their  heads 
while  they  yielded  to  the  deep  and  heartfelt 
emotion  that  controlled  them. 

Gray  asked  that  the  package  be  obtained 
for  them,  and  the  manager  hastily  dispatched 
one  of  the  telegraph  messengers  to  the  bank 
Avith  a  Avritten  request  that  it  be  sent  to  the 
office.  The  messenger  Avas  not  long  in  j^er- 
forming  his  errand;  and  noAv  the  package  be- 
ing in  their  hands,  the  party,  at  Gray's  sug- 
gestion, made  the  manager  acquainted  Avith 
the  facts  of  their  early  life,  and  having 
thanked  him  for  his  kindness  in  regard  to  the 
package,  and  also  his  expressions  of  sympa- 
thy, they  set  out  to  seek  the  grave  of  White, 
and  there  open  the  package.  As  they  saun- 
tered along  through  the  city  Black  recounted 


88 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


liis  adventures,  Avhich  were,  in  brief,  that  ho 
liad  steadily  and  persistently  })ursued  the  tel- 
egraph business  for  five  years,  but  as  i)romo- 
tions  to  better  positions  did  not  follow  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  abilities,  he  lost  ambition 
to  become  high  in  tlie  profession,  and  that 
from  that  time  forwaid  he  had  worked  along 
without  making  an  eftbrt  at  improvement, 
and,  in  iiict,  lost  expertness  in  performing 
telegraphic  work.  Tlie  result  was,  that  as 
time  advanced  better  operators  appeared  in 
the  field  and  supplanted  hira.  Rather  than 
accept  a  lesser  position  at  operating,  he  had 
sought  for  and  obtained  a  position  as  line- 
repairer  at  Chicago,  which  position  he  now 
held.  He  had  worked  in  San  Francisco,  St. 
Louis,  IJichmond,  Boston,  and  many  other 
places  around  the  country.  He  had  never 
married,  and,  as  he  said,  "  I  walk  this  dreary 
world  alone,  finding  a  happiness  in  watching 
for  '  crosses '  and '  breaks,'  which  is  sufficient 
for  me.  I  never  thought  that  the  breaks  tliat 
used  to  make  me  swear  lone:  aijo  would  at 
last  be  the  means  of  giving  me  a  subsistence, 
but  so  it  is." 

Green  related  that  lie  had  been  employed 
in  nearly  every  office  in  the  State  during  the 
first  five  years  of  his  vow,  and  had  saved  con- 
siderable money,  with  the  intention  of  marry- 
ing at  some  future  day,  if  he  could  find  any 
one  to  accept  him — red  hair  and  all.  lie  had 
by  prayer  and  patience  overcome  his  innate 
objections  to  marrying  a  female  operator,  but 
even  with  this  obstacle  removed,  ho  found,  as 
years  glided  by,  that  he  had  nothing  on  which 
to  base  hopes.  Even  they  (strange  as  it  may 
seem,  in  view  of  the  fact  of  their  usual  wil- 
lingness to  participate  in  the  nuptial  cere- 
mony) rejected  his  overtures  with  contempt 
and  rebufis,  which  completely  discouraging 
him,  he  had  abandoned  the  telegraphic  pro- 
fession and  followed  other  pursuits.  Five 
years  he  had  spent  discharging  coal  vessels, 
the  remainder  of  the  time  l)eing  equally 
divided  in  serving  out  along  imprisonment  at 
Sing  Sing  Penitentiary  and  roaming  the  coun- 
try over  as  a  vagrant.  "  It  would  take  hours 
to  tell  of  the  tramp  operators  I  have  met  in 
my  travels,"  said  he,  in  closing,  "and  I  will 
not  tire  you  by  attempting  it."  The  party 
accepted  what  he  had  tokl  as  sufficient  to 
show  his  adventures,  and  called  upon  Brown, 
who  said : 

"  I  have  never  left  Connecticut.  After 
]iarting  with  you  twenty-five  years  ago  1  ob- 
tained a  situation   as  station  agent  at , 

on   the   Hartford,  Providence,  and   Fishkill 
Railroad.     My  life  has  been  uneventful,  ex- 


cept the  fact  of  my  marriage,  which  occurred 
twenty  years  ago.  My  wife  I  first  met  in 
Norwalk,  Conn.  She  Avas  employed  at  tele- 
graphing at  the  time  in  the  New  York  office, 
and  was  visiting  some  friends  in  Norwalk 
whom  I  knew,  and,  calling  upon  them,  was 
introduced,  and  found  my  afllinity.  She  has 
been  always  an  excellent  wife  and  mother. 
The  eventful  part  of  the  affair  is  not  in  the 
marriage  so  much  as  in  my  overcoming  lite- 
long  prtjudices,  and  finally  marrying  a  tele- 
graph operator.  My  objections  to  doing  so 
were  as  strong  as  our  friend  Green's,  but  I 
have  been  happily  disappointed,  and  find 
that  telegraph  operators  make  fully  as  good 
wives  as  others  of  the  sex."  Ilis  companions 
made  no  reply  to  this  startling  statement. 
"And,"  he  continued,  "I  glory  in  being  the 
father  of  five  children — all  boys.  I  shall 
keep  them  from  telegraphing,  for,  as  they  are 
smart,  intelligent  lads,  and  likely  to  become 
expert,  I  know  that  they  would  never  attain 
to  any  high  position,  these  being  reserved  for 
the  less  gifted  men  in  the  business."  His 
associates  admitted  this  to  be  too  true,  and. 
he  proceeded :  "  1  would  be  glad  to  have  you 
all  come  down  and  see  me.  It  would  delight 
you  to  see  my  eldest  son,  William,  patiently 
cleaning  batteries  and  making  out  monthly 
reports,  never  swearing,  never  getting  angry 
over  it,  but  working  with  pleasure  until  the 
perplexing  job  is  over.  I  often  think  how- 
superior  lie  is  to  his  father.  I  used  to  kick 
the  glass  jars  to  pieces  in  my  anger,  and 
swear  like  a  trooper."  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders  at  the  thought  that  his  words  con- 
jured up,  and  ceased  speaking. 

Frank  Gray  had  started  for  Canada  after 
taking  the  vow,  and  been  employed  in  Mon- 
treal office  for  a  year,  Avhen  he  returned  to 
New  London,  and  shortly  after  married  Miss 
Rosa  Beverly.  The  whaling  business,  Avhich 
at  that  time  ofiered  a  road  to  fortune,  at- 
tracted his  attention,  and  he  shipped  on  a 
voyage  to  Greenland.  He  had  followed  this 
life  steadily  since  his  first  voyage,  and  had 
been  moderately  successful,  being  now  the 
mate  of  the  good  ship  "Iceland,"  which,  as 
previously  stated,  had  just  returned  with  a 
rich  cargo.  He  described  the  strange  fact  of 
his  returning  just  in  time  to  be  with  them, 
and  concluded  the  narrative  as  follows:  "I 
have  a  sweet  little  cottage  on  the  environs  of 
New  London,  in  addition  to  several  acres  of 
productive  land,  and  now  intend  to  abandon 
the  sea  and  till  my  land.  It  is  much  less 
hazardous  to  plow  the  soil  than  the  waves, 
and  as  I  have  an  ample  maintenance,  I  shall 


THE  VOW  OF  THE  SIX  T3LE0RAPH  OPERATORS. 


89 


find  a  pleasure  in  passing  the  balance  of  my 
days  training  my  eight  children  for  the  duties 
of  life,  which  they  already  know  a  great  deal 
about  from  the  teachings  of  their  mother." 

As  Gray  finished  speaking  they  had  reached 
the  burial  ground,  and  silently  entered.  After 
a  careful  search  among  the  graves,  reading 
the  inscriptions  thereon,  and  cautiously  tread- 
ing between  the  mounds,  the  grave  of  Wil- 
liam White  was  at  length  discovered  between 
those  of  his  parents.  No  tombstone  marked 
the  spot,  no  kind  hand  had  plucked  away  the 
wild  vegetation  that  grew  around,  but  every- 
thing spoke  of  neglect.  Standing  with  un- 
covered heads  near  the  sacred  spot,  from 
which  they  had  removed  the  weeds  and 
briars,  the  party  waited  in  silence  as  Ballon, 
breaking  the  seal  of  the  package,  prepared 
to  draw  forth  the  letter  Avithin.  Ere  this 
could  be  done  a  ring  dropped  from  the  envel- 
ope and  fell  upon  the  grave.  It  was  quickly 
picked  up  by  Black,  who  with  a  trembling 
hand  exhibited  it  to  the  others.  The  sight 
of  the  dear  emblem  forced  the  tears  from  the 
eyes  of  all,  and  the  memory  of  the  happy 
days  and  scenes  long  fled  with  which  it  was 
associated  rose  vividly  before  them. 

"Compose  yourselves,  my  friends,  if  possi- 
ble, and  listen  while  I  read  the  letter — the 
last,  probably,  that  our  absent  comrade  ever 
penned,"  said  Ballon,  and  having  gained  their 
attention,  he  read  as  follows : 

St.  Mark's  Hospital,  ) 
New  York,  July  4th,  18G1.      ) 

Mr  Dear  Friends— Lying  here  on  my  couch,  pros- 
trated with  fever,  broken  in  health  and  spirits,  penni- 
less and  almost  friendless,  I  realize  that  my  end  is  fast 
approaching,  and  I  desire  to  be  represented  at  your 
gathering  fifteen  years  hence  by  this  epistle,  as  I  cannot 
be  in  person.     I  have  never  forgotten  the  vow  taken  ten 
years    ago,  and  have  faithfully  and  honestly  observed 
its  obligations  ever  since.    I  left  Connecticut  in  the 
month  of  August,  1851,  and  came  to  New  York  City. 
Having  secured  a  position  in  the  telegraph  business,  I 
worked  on  hopefully.     With  advancing  years  I    im- 
proved my  abilities,  better  positions  with  increased  sal- 
aries were  given  me,  and  my  future  seemed  bright. 
All  went  well  for  two  years,  when  temptations  that  I 
had  long  resisted  overpowered  me  and  I  fell.    1  took  to 
drinking.    The  habit  grew  upon  me,  and  in  its  wake 
came  other  vices.     I  yielded  to  the  lowest  forms  of  dis- 
sipation, and  became  a  hopeless  and  abandoned  man. 
Thrice  discharged  from  the  office,  I  was  allowed  to  re- 
turn to  my  old  position  on  promises  of  better  behavior, 
but  the  wild  life  I  had  been  leading  had  gained  a  power 
over  me  that  my  weak  nature  could  not  throw  off,  and 
at  length  I  became  so  negligent  of  my  duties  that  Host 
situation,  friends,  and  honor.    I  bade  farewell  to  New 
York  in  1S59,  and  took  a  tour  around  the  country,  work- 
ing in  offices  as  substitute  operator  wherever  I  found 
an  opportunity.     Earning  simply  enough  to  satisfy  my 
most  pressing  wants,  I  would'  seek  new  quarters  every 
few  days,  all  the  time  yielding  to  the  craving  for  drink. 
After  following  this  life  for  several  years  1  returned  to 
New  York,  made  firm  resolutions  of  amendment,  and 
was  doing  much  by  the  uprightness  of  my  course  to 
atone  for  the  errors  of  the  past,  when  the  elfects  of  my 


unsteady  life  displayed  themselves,  and  1  was  stricken 
down  with  this  fever.  My  peace  is  made  with  my 
Heavenly  Father,  and  hourly  imploring  his  tender  for- 
giveness, I  await  his  summons.  May  He  grant  that 
your  lives  have  been  brighter  than  mine,  and  oh,  my 
dear  friends,  as  a  last  request  I  ask,  if  any  of  you  have 
pursued  a  course  similar  to  mine,  abandon  it  while  you 
yet  have  time.  May  God  bless  you  all.  Good-bye. 
Affectionately  yours, 

William  White. 

Green  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence 
after  hearing  the  letter  read.  Tears  streamed 
down  liis  cheeks,  and  sobs  almost  choked 
his  utterance.  He  exclaimed :  "  Poor  Billy  ! 
Beloved  friend  !  Your  request  shall  not  be 
utterly  in  vain.  One  of  us  at  least  will  obey 
it,  and  that  is  myself.  Oh,  comrades,  my 
life  has  been  a  hard  one !  I  have  fallen  into 
the  follies  and  vices  of  the  world  time  and 
again,  and  now  I  promise  over  the  ashes  of 
my  best  friend  resting  here  to  change  my 
ways  and  be  a  man.  This  vow  I  make  to- 
day, comrades,  and  swear  to  keep  it  as  true  as 
I  have  kept  the  old  one  !"  He  kneeled  upon 
the  grave  while  speaking,  and  raising  his 
eyes  toward  Heaven,  his  lips  moved  in  prayer. 
He  prayed  long  and  earnestly,  an  act  that 
perhaps  he  had  not  performed  for  years. 

Ballou,  upon  seeing  Green  arise  at  last,  re- 
minded the  party  that  he  had  not  told  them 
of  his  career,  and  said  that  he  had  purposely 
deferred  it  from  private  motives.  "  I  resigned 
from  New  Haven  ofiice  immediately  upon  my 
return  from  our  eventful  meeting  long  ago," 
be  began.     "  Having  announced  to  my  love 
— Miss  Gregory — that  I  would  write   regu- 
larly during  my  absence,  I  departed  for  Bos- 
ton, where  I  remained  for  two  years,  woi'king 
at  telegraphing.     All  this  time  I  had  contin- 
ued my  correspondence  with  Miss  Gregory, 
and  our  afiection  developing  into  love,  1  went 
to  Meriden  and  solicited  her  father's  consent 
to  our  union.     At  first  he  treated  my  request 
with   a  polite  but  firm  refusal,  stating  that 
my  rank  was  not  such  as  he  would   desire 
to  have  his  daughter's   husband  possess.     I 
argued  the  case  with   him   steadfastly   and 
clearly,  but  in  vain,  and  left  the  house.     In 
the  meanwhile  his  daughter  introduced  the 
subject  to  him,  and  assuring  him  that  with 
any  one  else  she  would  never  know  happi- 
ness, he   relented  and  gave  his  permission, 
and  we  were  married.     I  left  the  telegraph 
service  and   assumed   charge  of  two  of  his 
mills   in   New  Britain,  where  I  now  reside. 
Years  glided  by,  my  cup  of  happiness  always 
being  full  to  the  brim,  and  at  last  my  wife's 
father  dying,  she  succeeded  to  his  vast  es- 
tate and  property,  and  I  have  now  the  entire 
I  control  of  them.     I  disguised  myself  in  this 


90 


LIOHTNING  FLASHES. 


humlfle  garb  knowing  that  I  could  in  this 
way  best  learn  the  sincerity  of  your  frienJ- 
sliij),  wliichj  I. am  glad  to  say,  has  been  loyal 
ami  t lue,  Mr.  Green,  I  otler  to  you  a  posi- 
tion in  my  Meriden  mills,  and  if  you  will  ac- 
cept it  I  will  be  glad  to  have  you  accom- 
pany me  back  to  New  ]3ritain.  And  you, 
also,  Black,  I  have  something  in  store  for 
you.  As  for  the  rest  of  you,  gentlemen, 
your  circumstances  are  good,  and  I  congrat- 
ulate you." 

As  Ballon  finished,  each  of  those  present 
crowded  around,  and  grasping  him  by  the 
liand  warmly  congratulated  him  on  his  good 
fortune. 

The  party  then  retraced  their  steps  back 
to  the  city,  and  parted  with  expressions  of 
friendly  sorrow,  first  having  arranged  for  the 
erection  of  a  tombstone  over  the  grave  of 
White.  It  can  now  be  seen  in  Hartford, 
bearing  the  following  inscription  : 


WILLIAM   WHITE, 

Telegraph  Operator, 

Died  in  New  York  City,  July  10th,  186L 

Aged  30  years. 

This  Monument  was  erected  by  five  Operators 

who  linew  and  loved  him. 

The  rings,  which  were  retained  through  so 
many  trials,  disappointments,  and  joys,  and 
had  always  kept  the  vow  fresh  before  them, 
were  placed  into  small  niches  upon  the  mon- 
ument, forming  a  cluster,  with  White's  ring 
in  the  center.  The  sight  frequently  awakens 
curiosity  in  the  minds  of  those  who  see  them, 
which  is  never  gratified,  as  very  few  know  of 
the  incidents  they  commemorate. 

The  remaining  five  operators  are  all  living 
now,  and  find  in  the  practice  of  upright  lives 
and  the  pursuit  of  honest  aims  a  higher 
pleasure  than  is  enjoyed  by  hundreds  of  others 
who,  holding  lofty  positions  in  life,  are  discon- 
tented with  their  lot,  and  perpetually  crave 
for  more  exalted  and  lucrative  places. 


Some  Oxberience 

Some  beobles  ash  tondt  no  zomedings  apowet  a 
raih-oats  tondt  hat  baetter  loaf  roundt  a  goot  teal. 
Vcn  I  virst  gomes  me  py  der  blains  I  goes  mit  a 
raihoat  office  und  makes  abbligation  for  a  shob. 
"  Vot  k;ni   you  done  ? "  says  der  souberof tendent. 
"  Whose  your  peezucss  ?  "  I  told  him  I  vasli  a  obra- 
dcr,  und  I  should  like  to  hire  me  owet,  und  of  I 
broved  him  sadisvations  I  vould  advance  my  salary 
according  asli  his  meridts  varranted.     "  Vasli  you  a 
ear  obrader  ?  "  says  him,  "  kan  you  ketch  lidnmg  py 
der  soundt?"    "You    pet  my  life!"  I  told   him. 
"  Und  you  vash  a  virst  glass  mans ?  "    "I  usder 
vash,"  I  told  him,  und  den  I  hat  to  sbeak  apowet 
taking  some  bress  ven  I  vash  only  dree  mondths  py 
der  peezuess.    (I  usder  took  it  from  der  hooks  to 
der  brinters,  but  I  diden't  mention  dot.)  Und  ven  I 
vash  drough  he  looked  surbriced,  und  said  it  vash 
marfellous  apowet  der  apilities  ouf  zome    mens. 
Den  he  said :  "  I  subboseyou  hafe  all  doze  requisites 
ash  pocomes  a  first  glass  mans  ?  "     "  Who  is  doze  ? ' 
I  onquiied.    "  Oh,  I  s'bose,"  says  him,  "  dot  you  gau 
sit  roundt  all  tay,  turink  viskey  und  cigares,  shews 
derpacker,  und  sbit  all  over  de  ofvice  vurniture,  und 
some  forth  V  "    "  Don't  scmoke,  don't  turink,  don't 
shews  derpacker,  don't  sbit  some  all  ofer  der  vurni- 
tures!"I  yells   mit   oxsidement.    "  Whose  shurch 
3'ou  pelong  of? "    onquvires  him.    Den  I  dink  he 
vasii  making  foolishment  mit  me,  so  I  oxglaims, 
"  Goot-tay,  mister ! "    Den  him  hollers,  "  Holdt  on 
dare,  Tutcliy!   don't  bin  of    a  swveat.    Took  dis 
bass  (und  he  hands  me  vone)-  und  go  mit  Bodunk 
Sdatiou  on  der  virst  drain  to-uide  und  rcbort  vor 
tooty  in  der  mornink."    So  I  goes  me  immediately 


3Iit  a  Mailroats, 

mit  Bodunk,  und  reborts  ash  accordingly.    I  tondt 
had  peen  on  der  tooty  more  ash  fiof  minnids  pefore 
I  kets  me  a  meskage  vot  reads :  "  Flag  und  Iioldt 
enchine  '  Bulldog '    until  more   orters  vash  neces- 
sary."    I  vash  oxsidet,  because  I  don't  vasli  aggus- 
tomed  mit  railroats  peezness,  und  I  askgd  dot  dis- 
patcher who  he  means  by  a  flag.    "  '  Vy,*  "  says  der 
tispatcher,  "  put  out  der  flag  und  holdt  her ;  lond 
make  tem  foolishness,  und  be  quick."    Den  mine 
hair  sthood  owet  like  some  brickers  on  a  gooce- 
perries.    Und  I  runs  to  mine  trunk  und  gets  mine 
flag,"den  I  gets  mine  refolver,  blants  der  flack  in  der 
middle  ouf  der    drack,  und    cocks    der    refolver. 
Shurst  den  alonk  gomes  dot  enchine  dwice  more 
swift  ash  lidning.     Und,  py  duuuerwedder !  day 
don't  vould  sdop !    I  beared  vone  man  yell  " '  Hoald 
der  Vort '  schuoozer ! "    Den  I  vasli  schkared  all  to 
beices,  und  I  toldt  dot  tispatcher  der  engine  don't 
vouldsdop,  und  if  I  shall  hold  drains  I  mushdt  hafe 
reiuvorcements  und  more  guns.    "  Vot !  you  luua- 
dicks,  did  you  try  to  hoald  dot  engine  mitakunV" 
"  No,  mit  a  refolver,"  I  told  him.    Den  so  hollop 
mine  cracious  I  nefer  liearet  some  sveariug  like  dot 
pefore.    "Diden't  you  put  owet  der  flack?"  on- 
quired  der  tispatcher.    "Yaw,"  I  told  him.    "Vot 
kind,  a  redt  or  a  creen  vone  ?"  "  No  !  der  American 
flack!"  I  rebliet.    Veil,  veil,  I  don't  shall  nefer  vor- 
get  some  of  doze  remarks  ash  dot  tispatcher  made. 
I  coulden't  sthandt  it  some  longer,  so  I  cuts  me 
owet,  und  den  I  skint  owet  mineselof,  und  I  don't 
vash  hearet  of  in  doze  barts  zince.    I  hafe  buildt 
op  my  merit  ash  a  raihoat  mans,  I  tondt  vash  some 
eugcess. 


Scrapes. 


Puiou  to  the  introduction  of  patent  brakes 
the  brakeraan  on  a  passenger  train  was  an 
individual  calculated  to  command  respect. 
He  cultivated  his  muscle  assiduously,  and  the 
man  who  could  give  the  brake  an  extra  twist 
after  his  fellows  had  done  their  best,  and  who 
could  slide  the  wheels  iinder  his  coach,  was 
regarded  as  the  king  bee  in  the  profession. 

In  those  days,  when  a  dead-beat  attempted 
to  evade  his  fare,  and  the  conductor  called  in 
the  brakeman,  the  delinquent  took  in  the  sit- 
uation at  once,  and  came  down  with  the  fare 
without  more  ado. 

Full  of  conscious  strength,  the  breakraan 
indulged  in  "  chin  music  "  without  stint,  and 
brave  must  be  the  man  Avho  combatted  his 
opinion  when  publicly  expressed.  Alas !  that 
Westinghouse  has  substituted  another  kind 
of  wind  for  what  was  once  so  useful  an  article. 

The  want  of  exercise  has  brought  on  an 
effeminacy  which  on  many  roads  has  stilled 
the  brakeraan's  voice  forever,  and  when  he 
still  attempts  the  announcement  of  stations  it 
is  with  so  indistinct  an  utterance  as  to  be 
unintelligible.  Bashful  in  his  new  nature,  he 
shoots  out  of  the  car  door  with  his  words 
half  uttered,  lest  the  glance  of  some  fair 
maiden  might  overcome  him.  If  he  attempts 
to  announce  Laphark,  for  instance,  it  sounds 
like  whang-bang,  and  in  his  hasty  retreat  he 
slams  the  door  so  vigorously  that  the  voice, 
mingling  with  the  rattle  of  the  window-panes, 
becomes  incoherence  itself.  "Woe  to  that 
passenger  who  depends  on  the  brakeman  for 
the  knowledge  that  he  has  reached  his  desti- 
nation. 

There  tarries  in  New  York,  not  far  from 
the  post-office  building,  during  business  hours, 
a  legal  gentleman,  in  the  prime  of  life,  who 
has  given  much  sage  counsel  to  men  older 
and  younger  than  himself.  All  his  tact  and 
wisdom  did  not  keep  him,  however,  on  one 
occasion  from  falling  a  victim  to  the  brake- 
man's  degeneracy. 

Following  Greeley's  injunction  to  "go 
west,"  he  started  on  a  business  trip  in  that 


direction.  When  within  a  hundred  miles 
of  his  destination  a  junction  was  reached 
where  the  train  divided,  but  no  announce- 
ment being  made,  he  went  into  supper  with 
others  in  blissful  ignorance  of  the  fact. 
Sauntering  out  after  the  meal,  he  stepped 
on  what  appeared  the  last  car  in  the  train, 
and  passed  to  the  rear  .end,  where  he  found 
the  door  locked,  and  a  lady  whom  he  had 
noticed  during  the  day  sitting  not  far  from 
himself. 

Just  then  her  husband,  looking  anxiously, 
passed  by  on  the  platform,  and  she  tried  to 
attract  his  attention,  fearing  he  would  be  left. 

Our  legal  friend  assured  her  there  was  no 
danger,  as  the  train  had  only  been  separated 
to  do  some  switching,  but  when  the  husband 
stepped  on  a  distant  and  receding  car,  and  it 
continued  to  move  from  the  depot,  the  mis- 
take dawned  upon  him.  Rushing  to  the  for- 
ward end  of  the  car,  he  sprang  to  the  plat- 
form and  gave  chase  to  the  fast  disappearing 
train.  His  hat  flew  off",  his  gray  locks  flut- 
tered in  the  breeze,  and  as  the  depot  was 
long  and  full  of  people,  they  paused  to  enjoy 
the  race.  He  was  greeted  with  plentiful 
advice,  such  as,  "Go  it,  old  man!"  "Two  to 
one  you  win!"  "If  yon  don't  catch  him 
come  back  in  five  days ! "  "  Take  her  along 
on  your  coat-tail,"  etc.  Having  made  un- 
precedented time,  but  in  vain,  to  a  point  out- 
side the  depot,  he  drew  up  against  a  lamp- 
post to  recover  his  breath  and  repair  dam- 
ages. 

Presently  he  was  joined  by  his  new  lady 
acquaintance,  bearing  the  missing  hat.  She 
had  fallen  in  attempting  to  recover  it,  and 
was  now  crying  in  heartrending  tones,  "  Oh, 
ray  husband  !   My  husband !  My  husband  ! " 

Full  of  conscious  guilt,  our  legal  friend  still 
determined  at  once  to  put  his  foot  on  her 
histerics,  and  so  he  calmly  said : 

"  My  dear  madame,  I  am  not  your  husband. 
Please  do  not  address  me  in  that  way." 

By  degrees  he  calmed  her  into  self-posses- 
sion, and  they  finally  walked  arm  in  arm  to 


93 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


the  Avaitincj-room.  A  teleciiram  was  soon  dis- 
patched  to  the  missing  husband,  and  in  due 
time  an  answer  came  that  he  would  stop  at 
the  second  station  beyond  and  await  the  ar- 
rival of  his  wife,  who  was  ordered  perempto- 
rily to  take  the  first  train. 

She  was  a  sensitive  little  woman,  with  the 
misfortune  to  be  linked  to  a  morose  and 
tyrannical  companion,  but  under  the  genial 
influence  of  our  learned  friend  the  pent  up 
vivacity  of  her  nature  returned,  and  the 
hours  of  waiting  were  passed  in  pleasure  and 
almost  forgetfulness  of  the  mishap. 

Shortly  before  train  time  a  young  couple 
came  into  the  depot,  bringing  with  them 
a  babe.  This  they  placed  in  a  seiit  near 
by  our  friends,  where  it  slept  quietly.  Pres- 
ently the  mother  said  she  would  like  to  step 
out  into  the  air  with  her  husband  a  moment, 
and  asked  our  lady  acquaintance  to  look 
after  the  child,  to  which  she  readily  assented. 
The  moments  flew  by  and  the  couple  did  not 
return,  but  the  train  was  announced,  and 
something  must  be  done.  At  this  juncture 
an  old  lady,  who  had  watched  the  proceed- 
ings, spoke  up  in  a  sharp  voice,  and  said: 

"  Yew  needn't  think  that  woman's  comin' 
back — she's  runned  away  from  her  child." 

At  this  our  friend  drew  back  the  vail  and 
kissed  the  innocent  face  beneath.  In  a  fit  of 
desperation  she  wondered  what  her  husband 
would  say  at  her  bringing  the  baby  home, 
and  then  declared  she  would  take  it  anyway. 
In  spite  of  expostulations,  she  kept  her  cour- 
ageous determination,  and  the  train  sped  on 
its  way  with  the  legal  representative  and  his 
two  companions.  To  say  that  moments 
seemed  hours  to  him  would  be  a  faint  expres- 
sion of  his  anxiety,  but  the  baby  was  good, 
and  all  things  have  an  end. 

At  last  the  station  where  the  husband  was 
to  be  met  was  reached,  and  our  friend  bound- 
ed out  of  the  front  door  to  find  him.  At 
the  same  moment  the  husband  bounced  into 
the  rear  door,  and  discovered  his  wife,  but 
when  he  saw  the  infant  upbraided  her  in 
a  shockincc  manner. 

Matters  were  not  helped  when  our  legal 


friend  came  in,  for  the  wife,  remembering  his 
kindness,  and  the  car  being  full,  she  told  her 
husband  that  the  seat  he  occupied  belonged 
to  the  stranger.  The  husband  had  a  dark 
complexion,  black  hair  and  a  fierce  eye.  At 
this  information  he  swore  a  fearful  oalh,  and 
with  a  bound  bolted  for  the  smoking-car. 
Our  legal  friend,  in  much  trepidation,  but 
full  of  determination  not  to  encourage  any 
further  marital  infelicity,  followed  close  at 
his  heels.  By  dint  of  much  plain  talk  he  in- 
duced the  husband  to  return  to  his  wife,  and 
for  himself  smoked  away  the  time  till  his  des- 
tination was  reached,  little  dreaming  of  the 
other  events  which  were  transpiring.  Those 
who  sat  near  the  reunited  husband  and 
wife  say  that  he  scolded  her  savagely,  the 
baby  screamed,  and  the  lady  cried  heai-tily 
till  they  were  overtaken  by  an  unexpected 
incident. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  young  husband  and 
wife  had  returned  to  the  depot,  and  finding 
the  young  fledgling  gone,  the  father  swore 
eternal  vengeance  on  the  guilty  heads,  and 
the  mother,  in  heart-broken  accents,  bewailed 
her  child. 

The  old  lady  was  still  on  hand  with  her 
sympathy.  "  She  knew  sumthin'  was  wrong 
with  that  old  sinner.  She  heered  him  talk. 
He  had  runned  away  with  another  man's 
wife,  and  now  had  stoled  the  bairn." 

This  added  fuel  to  the  flames,  and  the 
young  husband  fairly  foamed  with  rage. 

It  was  now  midnight,  and  most  of  the  tel- 
egraph offices  were  closed,  but  from  the  first 
one  reached  a  telegram  was  sent  ordering 
the  arrest  of  the  man  and  woman  with  the 
stolen  babe.  The  constable  Avas  promptly 
on  hand  to  execute  his  orders,  and  no  amount 
of  explanation  or  threats  could  prevent  him 
from  locking  up  the  desperate  husband  and 
his  innocent  wile. 

In  the  morning  on  came  the  young  couple, 
and  the  two  ladies  soon  became  sympathetic 
— the  one  in  joy  at  the  recovery  of  her  child, 
and  the  other  in  satisfaction  at  the  mother's 
happiness.  The  two  husbands  had  a  stormy 
scene.     The  younger  sued  the  older  for  dam- 


A  EEMINISCENCE. 


93 


ages  on  account  of  the  theft  of  his  babe. 
The  fierce  gentleman  pursued  our  legal 
friend  and  brought  action  for  depriving  him 
of  his  wife  and  consequent  damages.  Our 
representative  of  the  New  York  bar  would 
have  sued  the  railroad  company  for  damages 
for  not  keeping  a  brakeman  to  announce  the 
stations  and  changes,  but  he  knew  it  would 
take  his  life-time  to  get  judgment,  and  that 
his  posterity  would  not  live  long  enough  to 
collect  it.  Reason  prevailed  at  last,  how- 
ever, explanations  were  made,  and  the  suits 
were  withdrawn  amid  general  harmony. 

Our  legal  representative  was  anxious  to 
keep  his  adventure  quiet,  but  Dame  Rumor 
travels  fast,  and  on  returning  home  he  had 
hard  work  to  prevent  a  divorce  case  in  his 
own  domestic  circle.  To  this  day,  when  he 
starts  on  a  trip,  as  his  wife  puts  her  arms 
around  his  neck  and  kisses  him  good-bye,  she 
says,  "  Do,  my  dear,  keep  out  of  scrapes ! " 
As  he  leaves  the  house  the  spinster  over  the 
way,  peeking  through  the  blinds,  remarks : 

"  There  goes  Mr. on  another  tower ! 

He'll  get  into  another  woman  scrape !     My 


husband  shall  never  leave  the  house  alone,  if 
I  know  myself! " 

Thus  our  deeds  do  follow  us.  And  now  for 
the  several  morals  of  the  story : 

First.  Beware  of  the  modern  brakeman,  for 
he  has  long  since  ceased  to  be  worthy  of 
yoiir  confidence. 

Second.  Never  restrain  a  lady  from  fleeing 
to  her  husband  when  he  is  in  sight,  but 
rather  hasten  such  a  consummation,  lest  dis- 
aster befall  you. 

Third.  Beware  of  small  responsibilities,  for 
they  frequently  cause  much  mischief. 

Fourth  and  lastly.  When  traveling  look 
out  for  No.  1,  and  be  not  too  officious  with 
advice  till  sure  of  your  own  ground. 

Do  you,  like  the  children,  ask  if  this  is  a 
true  story  ?  The  Father  of  our  Country  has 
always  been  the  greatest  object  of  my  admir- 
ation. It  is  not  likely  he  would  prevaricate 
about  so  small  an  apple  of  discord  as  whether 
a  story  should  be  spoiled  by  too  close  an  ad- 
hesion to  the  truth,  and  no  more  can  I.  As 
the  novelists  say,  "  This  romance  is  founded 
upon  fact." 


A  Meminiscence, 


The  average  Philadelphia  operator,  who 
is  seldom  seen  in  anything  but  an  agitated 
frame  of  mind,  finds  himself  in  a  state  of  fer- 
mentation on  the  first  and  fifteenth  of  each 
month,  those  being  the  two  happy  days  when 
the  ghost  walks  through  the  office  doling  out 
the  much  coveted  dollars.  The  boys,  who 
for  the  previous  ten  days  have  been  "  spacing 
it,"  (a  process  by  which  those  living  on  the 
European  plan  make  at  least  one  meal  a  day 
for  economy's  sake  on  nothing  more  substan- 
tial than  vapor),  find  themselves  at  boiling 
heat,  consumed  by  the  undying  thirst  for 
lucre;  and  cases  have  been  known  where 
they  have  met  the  cashier  at  his  down  town 
residence  in  the  early  morning,  and  accom- 
panied him  in  a  body  to  the  office.  All  their 
numerous  outstanding  notes  go  to  protest  on 


these  particular  days,  and  the  variation  of 
ten  cents  against  them  in  their  account  with 
the  cashier  necessitates  the  "  spacing  "  of  an 
extra  meal  time. 

Fully  understanding  this  arrangement,  the 
reader,  who  has  not  been  there  himself,  can 
understand  something  of  the  panic  which 
succeeded  the  announcement,  made  in  De- 
cember, 1875,  of  the  company's  very  reluct- 
ant resolution  to  reduce  salaries.  One  has 
only  to  reflect  on  the  close  calculations  which 
are  made  on  a  certain  amount,  and  the  sud- 
den depreciation  of  that  amount  of  from  four 
to  ten  dollars,  to  realize  the  fact  that  many  a 
poor  fellow  wilted  and  floated  away  on  a 
gentle  east  wind.  Everybody  leered  askance 
at  his  neighbor,  but  we  all  doubted  the  ru- 
mor.    There  was  every  reason  to  doubt  it — 


94 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


the  good  Centennial  time  a-coming,  the  in- 
stinct of  hopeful  ambition  and  consciousness 
of  guiltless  conduct,  the  suddenness  and  uni- 
versality of  the  calamity,  and  the  thoughts 
of  "  all  the  little  (tailors')  hearts  that  would 
ache"  bewildered  us,  and  even  made  us  in- 
credulous ;  but  when  the  "  notices  "  did  come, 
i:)rinted  forms  filled  in  Avith  horrible  official 
scribbling,  and  heralded  by  official  procla- 
mations and  such  mottoes  as  "Order  164," 
"  Sliding  Scale,"  etc.,  we  sat  down  prepared 
to  believe  any  story  which  might  be  told  us 
hereafter,  how  wild  soever  it  might  be. 

But  it's  an  ill  sliding  scale  that  blows  no 
one  any  good,  and  in  addition  to  those  fortu- 
nate ones  who  got  more  after  the  reduction 
than  they  did  previously,  some  of  the  fun- 
loving  members  of  the  force  derived  much 
satisfaction  from  the  scenes  of  weeping,  wail- 
ing, and  smashing  of  teeth.  When  the  great 
uni'easoning  crowd  had  gone  home  to  make 
wry  faces  in  a  looking  glass,  some  sacrilig- 
ious  miscreant,  who  was  probably  as  little 
affected  by  the  shock  as  a  millionaire  would 
be,  took  out  a  notice  addressed  to  the  lamb- 
like Johnny  Volrath,  changed  his  reduction 
notice  so  as  to  read  from  $60  to  $33,  and 
carefully  sealed  it  with  the  manager's  inscrip- 
tion on  the  back. 

When  the  nervous  John  arrived  at  the 
office  in  the  state  of  mind  which  I  have  just 
described — that  is,  prepared  to  believe  any 
story,  how  wild  soever  it  might  be — a  dozen 
willing  hands  offered  him  his  "  letter."  Xow, 
although  the  reverend  gentleman  on  whom 
this  joke  was  perpetrated  has  always  been  a 
shining  light  in  our  intellectual  department, 
and  his  deep  baritone  voice  (veritably  a  Cave 
of  the  Winds),  has  been  loudest  around  their 
council  fires;  although  he  was  forever  ex- 
horting them  to  remember  what  Moody  and 
Sankey  observed  about  loving  your  neigh- 
bor, he  got  about  as  much  consideration  or 
sympathy  in  that  corner  as  would  a  young 
cat  in  a  kennel  of  Scotch  terriers.     His  office 


life,  which  was  then  drawing  to  a  close,  had 
been  one  continued  tumult — a  whole  "  rao-fred 
edge"  in  itself— and  although  one  day's  ex- 
perience liad  been  fraught  with  danger  to 
his  spectacles  and  flowing  locks,  he  had  an 
unfortunate  but  uproariously  funny  faculty 
of  getting  into  new  dilemmas  on  the  next 
day.  It  will  thus  be  seen  why  a  dozen  will- 
ing hands  offered  him  his  "  document."  lie 
opened  and  read  it,  which  was,  as  far  as 
I  know,  his  last  official  act  on  earth.  I 
can  never  forget  "  the  tablet  of  unutterable 
thoughts "  that  flitted  over  his  face,  and  as 
he  glided  toward  the  door,  we  made  a  jovial 
response  to  his  cold  and  sickly  good  night. 


He  has  only  been  seen  once  since,  and  that 

was  on  the  stairway  shortly  afterward.    He 

was  shaking  the  brawny  hand  of  old  Owen, 

the  janitor,  who  had  been  reduced  too,  while 

tears  flowed  down  both  their  cheeks  as  they 

mutually  declaimed : 

My  old  friend  Joe, 

It's  little  I  know 

Of  the  -ways  of  this  compance ; 

But  I'll  eat  my  hand 

If  I  understand 

How  these  ere  things  can  be. 


Poor  Dick, 


Contrary  to  rule,  I  bad  transferred  ray 
attention  from  the  click,  click,  click  of  the 
instrument  to  "  Paradise  Lost,"  and  Avas  ac- 
companying the  Arch  Fiend  through  the 
boundless  realms  of  space,  in  search  of  new 
worlds,  all  unconscious  of  the  furious  repeti- 
tion of  my  "call."  The  -whistling  of  an 
approaching  engine  broke  my  reverie;  the 
familiar  sound  of  B,  B,  B,  next  greeted  my 
ears  ;  I  answered,  and  received  the  following : 

"'D,'  10th.  To  Conductor  Kutting,  train 
No.  7  :    B.  Put  Poor  Dick  in  the  cradle.  A." 

A  singular  message,  I  thought,  to  a  fi-eight 
conductor.  "D"  was  first  telegraph  sta- 
tion west  of  me.  "  A  "was  the  lady  operator's 
private  "  sig."  I  delivered  the  message  to 
the  conductor,  he  read  it,  smiled,  but  said 
nothing.  This  would  probably  have  been 
the  last  of  Poor  Dick,  so  far  as  I  ever  was 
concerned,  had  I  not  chanced  to  hear  the  fol- 
lowing the  next  day : 

"'H.,'  nth.  Miss  A.,  'D.'  Poor  Dick 
is  dead.     Kutting." 

To  which  Miss  A.  feelingly  replied :  "  Bury 
him  'neath  the  weeping  willows,  down  by 
the  bank  of  the  rippling  brook,  where  the 
music  of  the  waters  and  the  rustling  of  the 
leaves  will  ever  chant  a  requiem  to  his  tear- 
embalmed  memory." 

This  excited  my  curiosity  to  its  highest 
pitch,  and  I  said  I  would  solve  this  mystery - 
if  it  took  all  winter.     When  the  conductor 
passed  on  his  return  trip,  I  incidentally  re- 
marked :  "  Poor  Dick  is  dead  1 " 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  and  that  is  all  you 
will  ever  know  about  it." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure,"  I  said. 

"  There  are  only  two  persons  that  know  it, 
beside  myself,  and  they  will  never  reveal  it," 
he  confidently  answered. 

I  knew  those  two  persons,  and  knew  that 
their  veracity  could  not  be  questioned,  in  so  far 
as  their  natures  would  permit.  They  were 
ladies  ;  women,  if  you  please.  Upon  this  fact 
I  based  my  hope  of  success,  and  was  content 
to  bide  my  opportunity. 


I  had  not  long  to  wait.  In  less  than  a 
fortnight  I  heard  Miss  A.  at  "  D  "  get  per- 
mission to  be  off  duty  from  Saturday  until 
Monday,  and  that  Miss  G.,  her  sister,  would 
fill  her  place.  I  involuntarily  exclaimed : 
"  Now  is  the  winter  of  my  discontent  made 
glorious  summer  by  the  going  of  this  daughter 
of  lightning,"  and  immediately  set  about 
accomjilishing  it.  I  indited  a  letter  to  Miss 
G.,  as  follows: 

"'B.'  19th.  To  Miss  G., 'D'— Burn's 
immortal  lines : 

'  Man's  inhumanity  to  man 
Makes  countless  thousands  mourn  ; ' 

have  occupied  my  mind  for  the  past  few  days, 
to  the  exclusion  of  every  ray  of  sunshine.  I 
am  not  given  to  grief,  nor  prone  to  seek  sor- 
row ;  but  for  some  reason  beyond  my  con- 
ception, the  death  of  Poor  Dick  has  struck  a 
chord  in  my  anatomy  that  has  set  the  bat- 
tery of  my  soul  on  fire,  and  though  the  whole 
fountain  of  my  nature  plays  upon  it  contin- 
ually, it  increases  in  intensity  and  threatens 
my  entire  destruction  at  no  distant  day.  It 
is  not  so  much  the  demise  of  Poor  Dick  that 
grieves  me,  as  the  uncertainty  oi  his  earthly 
nature,  the  animal  kingdom  in  which  he 
reigned.  I  have  appealed  to  Mr.  Kutting 
with  all  the  power  and  tenderness  of  an 
afilicted  soul,  but  he  turns  a  deaf  ear  to  all 
my  entreaties.     In  my  extremity  I  cry : 

'  Oh,  Death  !  the  poor  man's  dearest  friend. 

The  kindest  and  the  best ! 
Welcome  the  hour  my  palsied  limbs 
Are  laid  with  thee  at  rest.' 

"  My  only  hope  of  relief  is  in  you.  I  know 
the  injunction  of  secrecy  that  seals  your  lips, 
and  I  would  not,  for  any  consideration,  ask 
you  to  break  it,  did  I  not  sincerely  believe 
that  there  is  a  higher  law  governing  the 
actions  of  women  than  of  men.  The  saying 
that  a  woman  cannot  keep  a  secret  seems  to 
run  back  to  the  beginning  of  time,  and  as 
time  was  before  all  things,  therefore  secre- 
tiveness  is  not  an  organ  of  her  nature.  She 
could  not  be  confiding,  trusting,  loving  with 
it.  You  can  readily  see  that  though  you  are 
morally  bound  to  keep  Mr.  Kutting's  secret, 
you  are  released  by  a  higher  law  from  doing 
so.  I  would  cast  no  reflection  upon  you  or 
your  sex,  but  believing  that  what  is  to  be, 
will  be,  shall  anxiously  look  for  immediate 


96 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


light  upon  the  subject  nearest  my  heart  — 
Poor  Dick  !     Yours  in  trouble, 

Samson." 

By  return  mail  I  received  an  answer  as 
follows : 

"  *  D.'  20.     To  Samson—'  B  : ' 

"  Your  lamentable  and  inflammatory  epistle 
is  at  hand.  Its  lirst  strains  awoke  within  me 
feelings  of  sadness  and  sympathy,  and,  like  a 
summer  night's  gentle  dew  that  settles  on 
all  around  —  seemingly  tears  of  the  sky  for 
the  loss  of  the  sun — first  caused  a  sigh  and 
then  a  groan  to  esca])e  me,  and  ere  I  knew 
it,  my  eyes  were  bubbling  over  like  boiling 
springs,  and  their  briny  effiision  falling  upon 
your  letter  almost  made  it  illegible.  To  add 
to  my  commotion,  I  could  not  see  my  way 
clear  to  help  you  out  of  your  dilemma.  I 
had  faithfully  promised  Mr.  Kutting  not  to 
discover  Poor  Dick's  '  incog.'  to  any  one, 
but  refer  all  inquiries  to  him.  These  reflec- 
tions made  me  feel  gloomy  indeed ;  but 
relief  came  in  a  manner  entirely  unexpected, 
which  lifted  the  cloud  and  dispelled  it  with 
as  groat  acrimony  as  that  with  which  a  boy 
sends  a  brick  through  the  air  at  a  mewing 
cat  on  the  roof  of  the  house,  that  has  been 
disturbing  his  repose. 

"A  woman  can't  keep  a  secret.  I  know 
one  that  can.  AVeep,  miserable  wretch,  for 
daring  to  harbor  such  a  belief !  Til  not  expose 
Poor  Dick  to  thee  while  a  drop  of  moisture 
remains  in  thy  distrusting  body.  What  gen- 
erous souls,  what  noble  natures  you  men 
possess!  It  is  not  our  fault  that  we  will 
talk  and  '  blab,'  but  a  '  higher '  cause.  Oh, 
perverting,  dissembling  creatures,  I  wonder 
that  'higher'  power  does  not  blast  as  with 
a  simoon  the  minds  that  dare  conceive  such 
ideas !  But  then,  I  suppose,  like  everything 
else,  lie  considers  the  source,  and  pities  more 
than  censures  you.  Indeed,  now  that  I 
reflect  that  in  Adam  all  men  (not  women) 
sinned,  I  am  lialf  inclined  to  bury  the 
liatchet  which  I  have  resurrected,  and  par- 
don you  for  your  lack  of  faith.  I  will  not 
say  Avhat  Poor  Dick  was  or  was  not,  but  if 

A  '  higher '  law  excuses  woman  fibbing, 
Then  Poor  Dick  is  not— the  epizoo  took  him. 

"Hoping  your  grief  will  be  assuaged,  I 
extend  you  the  hand  of  peace.  G." 

Miss  G.'s  reply,  though  equivocal,  I  was 
satisfied  contained  the  clue  t«>  Poor  Dick's 
character,  and  I  was  consequently  elated. 


Mr.  Kutting's  first  salutation,  for  some 
time  past,  on  meeting  me,  had  been  :  "  IIow 
is  Poor  Dick  ? "  to  which  I  could  make  no 
reply  but  that  of  continued  hope  of  finally 
being  able  to  answer  it. 

The  first  time  he  passed  after  I  had  heard 
from  Miss  G.,  I  made  answer  to  his  query, 
"  IIow  is  Poor  Dick  ?  "  that  I  knew  all  about 
him. 

"I  will  wager  twenty  dollars  you  do  not," 
he  replied,  and  so  sanguine  was  lie  that  it 
was  impossible  for  me  to  arrive  at  Poor 
Dick's  pedigree,  that  ho  would  have  staked 
any  amount  on  the  result. 

I  could  not  accept  this  challenge  without 
abusing  Miss  G.'s  confidence,  but  I  made  the 
proposition,  that  as  Christmas  was  approach- 
ing, whoever  lost  should  supply  the  ladies 
with  a  goodly  supply  of  sweetmeats.  This 
was  agreed  to. 

Thinking  to  entrap  Miss  A.  into  a  volun- 
tary confession  of  the  secret,  I  made  the 
drawing  below,  and  composed  the  lines  be- 
neath it. 


--^■=7/)f6.-fiaffe/Vi 


Poor  Dick,  that  good  old  horse,  is  dead  ; 

They've  put  him  in  his  little  bed. 

Unintentionally  he  caught  the  epizoo, 

And  notwithstanding  all  his  skillful  friends  could  do, 

His  spirit  went  where  the  woodbine  twineth, 

And  now  Miss  A.  and  Kutting  repineth. 

I  also  inclosed  a  report  of  the  post  mortem 
examination  of  the  body  by  three  learned 
doctors,  which  contained  so  many  medical 
terms  that  it  was  "  confusion  worse  con- 
founded." And  also  the  decision  of  the  cor- 
oner's jury  that  sat  upon  his  remains.  I  re- 
ceived the  following  racy  reply : 


THE  TELEPHONE. 


97 


"'D.'  21:  Friend  Samson — artist,  poet, 
etc.,  etc.  (Ahem !) 

"  Words  fail  me  !  I  cannot,  in  the  English 
language,  find  sentiments  adequate  to  express 
my  aroused  and  excited  feelings !  The  paint- 
ings of  all  the  old  masters  combined,  or  the 
ghost  of  my  great  grandfather  turned  into 
an  elephant,  would  fail  to  arouse  such  feel- 
ings of  deep  emotion  as  those  which  assailed 
me  when  I  perused  what  the  transmigration 
of  souls  had  effected,  when  the  spirit  of  Poor 
Dick  departed  from  this  '  frail  tenement  of 
clay.'  Why,  my  friend,  oh,  why,  didst  thou 
imagine  my  pet  was  a  poor  old  epizootic  ? 
Better  far  to  have  given  him  the  form  of  a 
whale, '  rocked  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep.' 

"  Let  us  pause  a  moment  that  I  may  let  fall 
a  few  of  those  briny  tears  so  touchingly 
depicted  by  your  pencil. 

"Most  faithfully  have  I  perused  and  re- 
perused  the  decision  of  that  coroner's  jury, 
but  I  fear,  that,  to  my  dying  day,  I  shall 
never  know  what  made  Poor  Dick  die. 


•'  Ah  well ! 

'  Of  all  sad  words  of  tonj^e  or  pen, 
The  saddest  these,  it  might  have  been — 

a  horse,  a  dog,  a  cat,  a  sheep,  or  a  rat,  who 
knows?  But  if  you  really  wish  to  know, 
just  ask  Mr.  Kutting.     73.  A." 

I  gained  nothing  here.  However,  when 
Christmas  arrived  Mr.  Kutting  admitted  that 
I  had  solved  the  riddle,  and  fulfilled  his 
agreement,  and  all  were  happy. 

The  facts  to  this  incident  are  that  a  sick 
horse  and  a  cradle  were  both  loaded  into  the 
same  car  at  "  D.,"  by  Mr.  Kutting.  Miss  A. 
sent  the  message — to  put  Poor  Dick  in  the 
cradle — for  a  joke.  The  horse  dying  next 
day,  Mr.  Kutting  jokingly  apprised  Miss  A. 
of  the  sad  event  by  telegraph,  and  thereby 
hangs  the  tale.  But  neither  of  them  know 
to  this  day  how  I  found  out  that  Poor  Dick 
was  a  horse. 


Tlie  Telephone, 


Ocb,  Biddy,  aslitore  !  d'ye  know  what  they  tell 
Of  a  foia  grand  invinshun  of  one  Misthur  Bell  ? 
They  say  it  can  shpake,  it  can  cry,  and  can  sing, 
Though  its  only  a  wiare  like  a  long  pace  of  string ; 
You  jist  titch  your  tongue  to  a  wire  all  curled, 
An'  it  shpakes  all  at  once  all  over  the  worruld  1 
If  you  were  in  Ireland,  and  jist  gave  a  laff, 
I'd  hear  it  right  here  by  this  new  tilegraph. 
An'  they  say  it's  all  thrue,  an'  before  a  long  time 
AVe'll  hear  cannons  firin,  an'  Parish  bells  chime. 
An'  thin  wid  the  gintry  they'll  be  grand  aflairs, 
For  they'll  hear  Queen  Victoree  repaytiu'  her 
prayers ; 


An'  whin  its  complayted  they'll  be  a  new  era, 
For  them  that  are  far  thin  will  spake  to  us  nearer ! 
An'  the  Queen  will  spake  plisant  to    Prisident 
Hayes,  [if  you  plase." 

Who'll  spake  back,  like  Grant,  "  Let's  have  pace 
An'  more  they  cud  do  wid  this  wiare,  galore. 
They  cud  sink  it  down  deeper  and  hear  Satin  roar 
But  of  Satin  they  wants  to  be  quite  indepindent, 
For  science  must  iver  be  in  the  ascindant ; 
An'  so  they'll  ascind  in  a  foin  big  balloon. 
An'  jist  give  the  ind  to  the  man  in  the  moon. 
Who'll  spake  of  the  weather  more  thruely,  ochone,. 
Nor  Yennor  or  Probs,  wid  this  grand  telephone. 


Cabling  Across  the  Atlantic.  —  How  long 
does  it  take  to  transmit  a  message  through  the 
Atlantic  cable  ?  The  New  York  Journal  of  Com- 
merce has  been  investigating  this  question,  and 
simple  as  it  looks  at  first  sight,  there  are  many  sin- 
gular and  interesting  points  in  the  answer.  When 
the  electricity  is  applied  to  the  cable  at  one  end, 
two-tenths  of  a  second  pass  before  any  effect  is  felt 
at  the  other  end,  and  three  seconds  are  consumed 
before  the  full  force  of  the  current  is  in  action.  The 
first  signal  is  felt  in  four-fourteenths  of  a  second, 


but  the  following  ones  go  through  more-  rapidly. 
As  many  as  eighteen  words  have  been  sent  over  the 
Atlantic  cable  in  one  minute ;  fifteen  can  usually 
be  sent  under  pressure,  and  twelve  words  a  minute- 
is  a  good  working  rate.  In  May,  1876,  891  mes- 
sages were  sent  over  the  Direct  Cable  in  24  hours. 
Messages  of  twelve  words  have  been  sent  all  the 
way  from  New  York  to  London  in  two  minutes. 
A  fact  not  yet  explained  by  the  scientists  is  that  the 
electricity  does  not  move  as  rapidly  from  New  York 
to  Lojidon  as  in  the  opposite  direction. 


98 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


Snags, 


The  discipline  of  railroad,  Btearaboat,  and 
telegraph  companies  is  not  calculated  to  in- 
spire much  reverence  for  the  Sabbath  among 
their  employes.  It  was  on  Sunday  that  the 
events  which  I  am  about  to  narrate  trans- 
pired. 

It  was  in  the  spring  time.  The  balmy 
southern  breeze  had  driven  away  winter's 
frost  and  snows.  The  fresh  grass,  the  buds 
and  blossoms,  and  the  opening  leaves  hinted 
at  the  wealth  which  Nature  had  in  store,  so 
soon  to  be  revealed.  The  birds  sang  their 
sweetest  anthem  song,  and,  above  all,  the 
bright,  warm  sun,  so  refreshing  after  a  Avin- 
ter  of  dreary  length,  lured  to  the  open  air. 

It  was  in  the  year  when  the  Chicago  and 
Northwestern  Avas  the  only  railway  running 
into  Council  Bluffs,  and  the  Union  Pacific 
Road,  still  uncompleted,  was  being  pushed 
with  astonishing  vigor  toward  the  Golden 
State. 

To  those  familiar  with  the  rich,  black  soil 
of  Western  Iowa,  which  borders  on  the  Mis- 
souri River,  it  will  be  a  relief  to  know  that 
the  genial  rays  of  the  sun  had  dissipated  the 
moisture  of  the  rainy  season,  and  made 
prairie  navigation  possible. 

The  big  Missouri,  however,  in  response  to 
the  mountain  freshets  thousands  of  miles 
away,  Avas  overflowing  its  banks,  and  threat- 
ened a  universal  flood  on  the  bottom  lands. 
That  swift-running,  muddy,  mighty  and  fickle 
stream  was  transferring  hundreds  of  acres  of 
land  from  the  Iowa  to  the  Nebraska  shore 
Avithout  so  much  as  a  "  by  your  leave  "  to  the 
former  occupants. 

A  few  months  before,  the  Union  Pacific 
people  had  put  down  a  telegraph  cable  diag- 
onally across  the  Missouri  River,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  maintaining  communication  betAveen 
their  terminus  in  Nebraska  and  the  Chicaijo 
and  NorthAvesteru  Railway  in  Iowa,  where 
they  had  a  large  accumulation  of  materials 
?nd  stores. 

The  river,  true  to  its  antecedents,  had 
buried  one  end  of  this  cable  beneath  a  sand- 


bar, and,  by  means  of  snags  and  wash-outs 
had  destroyed  the  other. 

In  hopes  that  something  could  be  done  to 
regain  the  cable,  and  in  any  event  to  decide 
Avhat  to  do,  the  writer  was  in  hasty  route  for 
the  scene  of  disaster. 

In  his  company  was  a  gentleman  so  full  of 
energy  as  to  constitute  a  whole  town  in  him- 
self, and  whether  dispatching  trains,  man- 
aging a  telegraph  circuit,  running  a  hotel,  or 
driving  a  team,  he  always  Avanted  to  handle 
the  reins. 

It  was  well  into  the  morning  when  the 
train  reached  Council  Bluffs,  and  without  de- 
lay we  hastened  to  a  livery  stable  to  secure 
a  buggy  and  span  for  an  expedition  a  few 
miles  up  the  river. 

As  the  location  was  unknown,  the  necessity 
of  a  guide  presented  itself,  and  none  better 
could  be  thought  of  than  the  manager  of  the 
city  telegraph  office. 

He  bore  the  same  name  as  the  inventor  of 
the  American  telegraph  system,  and  was  the 
manager  both  for  the  express  and  telegraph 
companies.  His  ability  and  enterprise  have 
since  been  recognized  by  a  jirominent  West- 
ern railroad,  Avhich  made  him  its  general 
Western  agent,  and  his  future  career  is  well 
assured. 

It  did  not  take  long  to  drive  to  his  house, 
but  he  had  gone  to  church,  where  Ave  soon 
followed.  As  the  matter  Avas  urgent,  we 
coaxed  the  sexton  to  call  him  out,  and  after 
a  hurried  consultation  with  his  wife,  he  ap- 
peared in  a  fine  broad-cloth  suit,  as  handsome 
a  man  as  could  be  found  in  the  State  of  Iowa. 
On  explaining  our  mission,  he  promptly  con- 
sented to  go,  and  jumped  in  with  us. 

It  Avas  suggested  that  the  new-comer  had 
better  drive,  on  account  of  his  familiarity 
with  the  scene  of  action,  but  our  friend,  Avho 
Avas  fond  of  holding  the  reins,  persisted  in 
his  ability  to  do  the  right  thing,  and  was 
finally  permitted,  much  to  our  future  dis- 
comfort. While  the  road  continued  on  the 
prairie  no  obstacles  were  encountered,  but 


SNAGS. 


99 


when  we  were  obliged  to  go  on  the  bottom 
lands  the  progress  was  slow  and  difficult. 
The  road  proper  had  been  washed  away,  and 
a  path  must  be  picked  as  best  it  could  from 
the  most  favorable  ground  some  distance 
back  from  the  river. 

We  at  length  came  to  a  little  knoll,  from 
the  top  of  which  our  destination  could  be 
seen. 

While  our  attention  was  taken  away  the 
horses  started  down  hill  on  a  trot,  and  in  a 
moment  we  found  ourselves  mired  to  the  hub 
in  a  horrible  hole. 

We  sprang  out  instantly,  jack-knives  in 
hand,  to  cut  brush  and  throw  under  the 
horses  to  keep  them  from  miring  beyond 
help,  and,  after  two  hours'  hard  work,  rescued 
the  team  from  its  predicament. 

But  what  a  spectacle  did  the  three  young 
men  present,  who  prided  themselves  on  their 
personal  toilet,  and  who  started  out  so  re- 
cently with  so  gay  a  rig  ? 

Besmeared  from  head  to  foot  with  mud, 
faticrued  and  disgusted,  we  nevertheless  com- 
menced  a  faithful,  though  unsuccessful,  search 
for  the  missing  cable. 

As  we  were  about  turning  away  the  city 
manager  determined  to  make  one  last  attempt, 
and  started  on  a  short  cut  for  a  sand-bar, 
which  promised  a  favorable  out-look. 

Suddenly  the  baked-clay  crust  on  which  he 
ran  gave  way,  and  left  him  floundering  waist 
deep  in  Missouri  River  mud. 

Dear  reader,  did  you  ever  walk  with  a 
friend  who  suddenly  sat  down  in  a  public 
place  without  premeditation,  and  not  laugh 
at  his  misfortune  ? 

Did  you  ever  see  a  silk  hat  blown  along 
by  a  ten-knot  breeze,  followed  by  its  owner 
in  close  pursuit,  and  not  laugh  at  the  sight  ? 
Did  you  ever  witness  the  comical  side  of  a 
misfortune  to  any  human  being  and  not  give 
way  temporarily  to  hilarity  ? 

Then  pardon  the  wi'iter  and  his  companion, 
for  when  they  saw  the  ludicrous  situation  of 
their  comrade  they  roared  with  laughtei-,  and, 
had  his  life  depended  on  it,  could  have  ren- 
dered no  assistance. 


A  madder  man  never  issued  from  the 
slough  of  despond,  but  he  was  not  to  be  dis- 
turbed in  his  self-possession. 

Calmly  viewing  the  sky  above,  the  river 
beneath,  and  his  own  condition,  he  remarked  : 

Earth  bath  do  charms 

To  lure  mc  to  her  breast ; 
Lest  we  meet  further  harm, 

We'll  let  the  cable  rest. 

At  this  unexpected  outburst  there  was  a 
general  hand-shaking,  and  when  composure 
was  regained  we  mounted  into  the  vehicle, 
homeward  bound. 

To  return  by  the  way  of  entrance  was  im- 
practicable, and  an  attempt  was  made  to 
pass  through  the  river  timber,  in  which  we 
soon  became  entangled. 

Fortunately  a  gentleman,  who  is  now  gen- 
eral superintendent  of  a  Texas  railway,  Avas 
near  at  hand,  superintending  a  gang  of  men 
who  were  clearing  a  new  landing  for  the 
Union  Pacific  transfer  boats. 

On  learning  our  predicament  he  sent  a 
force  to  extricate  our  team  and  escort  us  to 
terra-firma,  for  which  lie  received  our  ever- 
lasting thanks  and  gratitude. 

It  was  at  dusk  when  our  forlorn  expedition, 
with  its  jaded  horses,  wrecked  buggy,  and 
disconsolate  passengers  approached  the  limits 
of  Council  Bluffs. 

In  the  darkness  it  was  difficult  to  discern 
our  exact  whereabouts,  and,  drawing  up  in  a 
fovorable  spot,  the  welcome  approach  of 
strangers  was  awaited  to  acquire  information. 

Presently  two  travelers  were  hailed.  They 
^rew  near,  and  having  closely  inspected  our 
condition,  the  spokesman  said : 

"  Hie,  hie.  We're  drunk ;  but — hie,  hie — 
not  so  drunk  as  you  be ! " 

This  was  the  crowning  climax  of  the  day's 
proceedings. 

That  this  trio,  who  boasted  of  their  tem- 
perate habits,  should  be  charged  with  beastly 
intoxication,  was  the  .last  straw  which  broke 
the  camel's  back. 

We  proceeded  on  in  sadness,  and,  after 
much  preambulation,  deposited  our  friend  at 
his  own  door.  What  his  reception  was  has 
ever  remained  a  secret. 


ICO 


LIOHTNINO  FLASHES. 


Whether  liis  wife  upbraided  liim  for  the 
desertion  of  the  morning,  and  reviled  him 
lor  liis  present  state,  or  wliether  she  soothed 
and  comforted  him  till  self-respect  returned, 
is  not  for  us  to  know. 

Who  carries  the  talisman  with  which  to 
unlock  the  domestic  drama  to  open  view? 

Memory  recalls  a  lady,  reared  in  hixury, 
suddenly  deprived  of  friends  and  money,  who 
nobly  earned  her  own  and  her  sister's  liveli- 
hood. She  afterward  married  the  husband 
of  her  choice. 

He  became  prosperous,  but  with  success 
there  came  neglect,  fretfulness,  and  some- 
times scorn. 

Though  he  returned  at  all  hours  and  in  all 
moods,  she  ever  met  him  with  a  smile  and 
the  tenderest  sympathy  for  weeks  and  months 
and  years. 


At  length  misfortune  overtook  him,  and  he 
learned  that  a  woman's  love  is  worth  more 
than  all  the  world  beside.  Thus  did  she 
triumph,  and  the  sweetest  joy  reigned  where 
might  liave  been  the  blackest  woe. 

May  blessings  ever  throng  upon  her  path- 
way— but  pardon  the  digression. 

The  Western  Union  master  withstood  the 
freshet,  and  by  the  magnanimity  of  that  com- 
pany a  wire  across  the  Missouri  was  speedily- 
secured  for  railroad  use,  so  that,  in  spite  of 
the  disastrous  expedition,  the  final  success 
atoned  in  a  measure  for  its  misfortunes. 

Since  that  memorable  occasion,  however, 
our  faith  in  the  old  adage  that  "  the  better 
the  day  the  better  the  deed,"  has  been  much 
shaken,  and  old  and  young  are  advised  to 
consider  well  their  Avays,  for  you  know  not 
when  to  expect  a  snag. 


How  a  Signal  Service  3Ian  Lost  his  Sweetheart, 


The  following  rather  romantic  episode,  connected 
with  the  life  of  one  of  the  most  prominent  officials 
of  the  Signal  Service  Bureau,  is  another  of  the  in- 
stances of  education  completely  subduing  the  natu- 
ral propensities  of  man.  This  officer,  our  informant 
states,  was  at  one  time  engaged  to  be  married  to  a 
beautiful  young  lady,  and  the  evening  before  that 
set  for  their  marriage  called  on  her.  They  were 
seated  on  the  sofa  in  the  parlor,  the  gas  was  turned 
down  to  a  twilight  strength,  and  they  were  talking 
iu  the  usually  low  tones  peculiar  to  lovers  before 
marriage  of  the  future,  which  seemed  to  be  "  all  so 
bright"  before  them.  Suddenly  the  young  lady 
said — 

"  Albert,  dearest,  there  is  one  thing  I  wish  you  to 
do  when  we  are  married." 

"  Name  it,  pet,"  he  replied,  in  his  most  encourag- 
ing tones,  and  at  the  same  time  giving  her  such  a 
squeeze  that  she  imagined  her  corsets  were  a  mile 
too  large  for  her. 

"  Well,  my  darling,  I  wish  to  have  no  rain  on 
Mondays ;  because,  you  know,  my  dearest,  that  on 
Mondays  we  cleanse  our  linen,  and  if  our  things  are 
not  washed  and  dried  on^  those  days  one  entire 
week's  work  is  so  fearfully  set  back.  You  will  grant 
me  this  one  request  ? " 

"  Maud,"  he  replied,  gazing  into  the  depths  of  her 
dark  blue  eyes,  and  dallying  with  her  golden  ring- 
lets, *'  Maud,  dearest,  my  duty  to  my  country  impex- 


speak,  the  precise  sort  of  weather  that  heaven  will 
probably  send  impartially  during  the  succeeding 
twenty-four  hours,  upon  the  just  as  well  as  the  un- 
just, without  regard  to  age,  sex,  or  previous  condi- 
tion of  servitude.  If  an  area  of  low  barometer  ex- 
ists in  the  Northwestern  States  on  Monday,  how  can 
I,  consistently  with  my  duty,  declare  that  the  indi- 
cations favor  clear  weather,  with  light  winds  from 
the  southeast?  No,  angel;  ask  me  anything  but 
that.  I  love  ihee,  dear,  so  much,  but  I  love  my 
honor  more." 

"  Then  you  don't  love  me;  no,  not  a  single  bit," 
she  replied,  between  her  sobs,  and  the  tears  fell 
thick  and  fast  as  she  pleaded  with  him  to  change 
his  stern  resolve.  The  struggle  between  love  and 
duty  was  a  fearful  one,  but  his  military  teaching  left 
him  but  one  path  to  pursue,  and  he  chose  his  duty. 
It  is  easy  to  imagine  the  results — a  sudden  coolness, 
quarrel,  breaking  off  of  the  engagement  and  the 
meteorologist  heart.  She  returned  his  numerous 
presents,  letters,  etc.,  and  is  now  lecturing  on  wo- 
man's rights ;  while  he,  a  confirmed  misogynist,  sits 
up,  and  on  Sunday  nights  at  the  Signal  Office  with 
fiendish  glee  makes  up  the  indications  for  Monday. 
He  takes  especial  pleasure  in  announcing  for  that 
day  falling  barometer,  atmospheric  disturbances, 
heavy  rains  in  the  lower  lake  region,  high  winds 
from  the  northwest,  and  so  on  through  the  entire 
category  of  unfavorable  meteorological  nomencla- 


atively  demands  that  I  shall  '  whoop-em-up,'  so  to  1  turc. 


A  Centennial'Tele graphic  Itoniance, 


It  was  New  York  day  at  the  Centennial. 
All  roads  seemed  to  lead  to  Pliiladelphia,  and 
every  road,  and  every  train,  and  every  car 
was  crowded.  When  the  7:45  express  train 
moved  slowly,  and  thirty-five  minutes  be- 
hind time,  out  of  Jersey  City  depot,  it  had 
twenty-three  passenger  cars  attached,  and 
carried — the  conductors  only  know  how  many 
thousand  passengers. 

Mr.  Sydney  Sumraerville,  a  denizen  of  the 
Western  Union  main  office,  having  secured  a 
two  days'  leave  of  absence  for  the  purpose 
of  visiting  the  Centennial  city,  was  one  of 
the  passengers.  He  walked  through  four 
several  cars  before  he  could  find  an  unoccu- 
pied seat.  At  length  in  the  roar  car  he  found 
the  little  sofa  at  the  forward  end  vacant,  and 
thankfully  took  possession  of  it — the  solitary 
occupant. 

He  had  a  Herald  and  a  Su7i  with  him,  and 
read  for  a  short  time  after  the  train  started. 
Then  he  gazed  lazily  out  of  the  window.  It 
was  a  delightful  morning.  The  fields,  bathed 
in  mellow  sunlight,  never  looked  lovelier; 
nature  seemed  to  have  donned  her  holiday 
attire  for  the  occasion,  and  as  Summerville 
closed  his  eyes,  and  listened  to  the  monoto- 
nous clickety-clack  of  the  wheels,  he  fell  into 
a  delicious  reverie.  He  had  already  spent  a 
week  at  the  great  World's  Fair,  and  so  favor- 
ably impressed  was  he  with  the  exhibition, 
and  particularly  the  Art  Gallery,  that  he  felt 
that  he  must  see  it  at  least  once  more  before 
it  closed  forever. 

Opening  his  eyes  at  last,  he  looked  around 
upon  his  fellow-passengers.  A  few,  he  could 
see,  were  "city  folks,"  but  the  majority  were 
evidently  hardy  sons  of  toil.  The  garments 
of  many  still  showed  the  crease  of  the  ready- 
made  clothing  store,  and  the  bright,  new 
neckties  and  shining  shirt-bosoms  evidenced 
that  the  wearers  meant  to  appear  at  the  Cen- 
tennial looking  their  very  best. 

Every  cross  seat  in  the  car  was  occupied, 
and  for  fully  five  minutes  Mr,  Summerville 
kept  gazing  from  one  to  another  of  the  pas- 


sengers, wondering  Avhether  he  might  not  be 
familiar  with  the  face  of  some  one  present. 
His  eyes  wandered  slowly  to  the  farther  end 
of  the  car,  and  then  back  again,  un^il  at 
length  they  rested  upon  the  little  sofa  oppo- 
site. It  was  his  first  conscious  glance  in  that 
direction,  and  a  close  observer  might  have 
noticed  a  little  involuntary  start  as  he  caught 
sight  of  the — like  himself — solitary  occupant 
of  the  little  sofa. 

Perhaps  the  reader  will  not  blame  him, 
however,  when  I  say  that  the  seat  was  occu- 
pied by  a  fair  young  girl  of  not  more  than 
eighteen,  bright,  intelligent,  radiant  with 
smiles,  and  decidedly  good  looking. 

Summerville's  heart  faii-ly  stood  still,  and 

opening  his  eyes  he  gazed  at 

"  The  lovely  apparition  sent 
To  be  a  moment's  ornament," 

for  several  moments  admiringly,  and  almost 
spellbound. 

It  is  but  fair  to  mention  here  that  this  was 
a  very  unusual  proceeding  on  Summerville's 
part.  If  there  was  any  one  thing  upon 
which  that  gentleman  prided  himself  more 
than  another  it  was  on  not  being  what  the 
world  calls  a  "  ladies'  man."  He  was  simply 
a  very  sensible,  practical  person,  and  had 
never,  so  far  as  any  of  his  friends  were 
aware,  been  guilty  of  the  little  indiscretion 
of  falling  in  love. 

But  love  sometimes  enters  a  life  abruptly 
and  unexpectedly.  Love,  as  somebody  has 
said,  is  a  dear  divine  passion  of  the  gods. 
It  is  the  only  thing  in  this  world  that  makes 
the  long  interval  between  fourteen  and  sev- 
enty in  any  way  acceptable.  Life  without 
love  is  an  ugly,  monotonous  song ;  a  low, 
wearisome,  uneducated  parrot's  song  that 
dolefully  rings  out  in  the  dreary  space, 
frightening  the  timorous  traveler.  To  meet 
an  utter  stranger,  and  gaze  in  the  unfamiliar 
eyes  unthinkingly,  and  suddenly  to  find  ones 
heart  still  and  cold,  while  everything  in  the 
world  underwent  a  grand,  wondrous  change, 
that  is  love  at  first  sight — the  sweetest,  most 


102 


LiGnrymo  flashes. 


divine  and  glorious  of  all  love.  It  is  worth 
lite  and  M'orth  death  to  love  like  that. 

Such  Avas  Sunimerville's  love.  As  be 
gazed  at  the  sweet,  frank  countenance  of  the 
lady  before  him,  he  felt  that  the  ever-chang- 
ing smile  was  but  the  reflex  of  a  pure  and 
innocent  heart  within,  unclouded  by  sorrow 
and  unsullied  by  contact  with  a  dissembling 
world. 

As  he  continued  to  gaze  enraptured  upon 
the  fair  picture,  a  sweet  sensation  crept  over 
him  such  as  he  had  never  felt  before.  Life 
seemed  literally  strewn  Avith  roses,  and  he 
wondered  how  lie  could  ever  have  come  to 
consider  it  dull,  and  scarcely  worth  the  hav- 


ing. 


The  young  lady  Avas  of  a  full  rounded 
physique,  perhaps  about  five  feet  five  inches 
in  height.  A  profusion  of  golden  hair  hung 
in  studied  carelessness  over  her  shapely 
shoulders.  Her  large  hazel  eyes  had  a  pecu- 
liarly hearty,  merry  twinkle.  She  was  fault- 
less in  form  and  feature,  with  a  complexion 
where  the  blended*  rose  and  lily  seemed  to 
vie  for  ascendency.  With  these  she  carried 
a  bright,  joyous,  and  ever-changing  expres- 
sion, which  might  well  have  melted  the 
lieart  of  even  the  most  thorough  Avoman- 
hatcr.  The  following  lines  seem  to  suit  her 
so.Avell  that  it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to 

quote  them  here  : 

"  Step  as  light  as  any  fawn  ; 

Sweetest  eyes,  where  eecm  to  dawn 
Beams  of  love  and  every  khid  of  little  wile; 

Fiiijure,  like  her  features,  chaste; 

Oh  !  and  such  a  dainty  waist ; 
And  a  perfectly  intoxicating  smile. 

Teeth  as  white  as  ocean  spray  ; 

Lips  where  lii^htest  fancies  play 
Like  warm  sunbeams  in  and  out  among  the  flowers, 

Yet  some  sober  tlioutjhts,  I  ween, 

Keep  their  vigils  in  between, 
When  the  twilight  deepens  into  evening  hours." 

She  Avas  not  alone.  On  the  seat  immedi- 
ately behind,  and  Avith  their  faces  toward 
her,  sat 

"  The  father  and  mother,  to  guard  from  the  whirl 
Of  a  hollow  world  this  priceless  pearl, 
This  iimocent,  loving  and  lovely  girl 
On  her  way  to  the  great  Centennial." 

Her  father  sat  next  the  AvindoAA'.  lie  Avas 
a  man  of  perhaps  fifty  years ;  clear,  bold, 
sharply-defined    features,  a  firm  mouth  and 


high,  intellectual  forehead.  His  countenance 
indicated  groat  force  of  character,  and  Sum- 
merville  could  not  but  set  him  doAvn  as  a 
stern  disciplinarian.  The  mother  Avas 
younger,  but  appeared  to  have  passed  through 
more  trials.  She  Avas  clad  in  deep  mourn- 
ing. Dark  rings  around  her  eyes  bore  testi- 
mony to  long,  Avcary  hours  of  patient  watch- 
ing, perhaps  by  the  dying  bedside  of  a  loved 
child.  But  she  had  a  SAveet,  pleasant  face, 
and  as  her  countenance  Avas  occasionally  lit 
up  by  a  smile  of  maternal  pride  as  she  gazed 
at  her  loA'cly  daughter,  Suramervillc  saw  that 
she  was  still  a  very  beautiful  Avoraan.  She 
seemed  very  proud  of  her  daughter,  and  the 
latter  jiroperly  reciprocated  the  affection. 
When  their  eyes  met,  Summerville  saAV  that 
the  face  of  each  Avore  a  sweet,  pleased  smile, 
as  if  the  one  were  all  the  Avorld  to  the  other. 
The  father  scarcely  ever  looked  tOAvard  his 
daughter.  He  occasionally  turned  to  speak 
to  his  Avife,  but  the  greater  part  of  the  time 
he  gazed  doggedly  out  of  the  AvindoAV. 

The  more  Summerville  looked  at  the  young 
Avoman,  the  Avarmer  grew  his  admiration  for 
her.  He  could  scarcely  keep  his  eyes  off*  her. 
But  so  far  lie  had  received  no  encouragement. 
If  she  looked  at  him  at  all  it  was  merely  a 
momentary  glance.  All  at  once,  hoAvever, 
those  lustrous,  handsome  dark  eyes  beamed 
full  upon  and  almost  dazzled  him  with  their 
brightness.  Their  eyes  met.  Each  looked 
at  the  other  steadily,  but  with  perfect  modesty 
for  perhaps  ten  seconds.  His  heart  quickened 
its  pace,  and  a  little  blush  stole  to  her  cheek. 
After  looking  out  of  the  AvindoAV  for  a  foAV 
moments  her  eyes  Avandered  in  his  direction 
once  more.  Again  their  eyes  met.  There 
Avas  no  smile,  no  sign  of  any  kind.  Each  sim- 
ply gazed  full  in  the  face  of  the  other.  Her 
mother  noticed  the  direction  of  the  daughter's 
glance,  and,  looking  that  Avay,  met  Sunimer- 
ville's eyes.  She  turned,  and  looked  at  her 
daughter  reproachfully,  but  Avith  a  pleasant, 
maternal  smile.  Her  daughter  returned  the 
smile,  and  leaning  back  in  the  corner,  blushed 
and  turned  aAvay  her  face,  a  little  ashamed — 
not,  j^erhaps,  so  much  of  having   looked  at 


A   CENTENNIAL-TELEORAPnW  ROMANCE. 


103 


the  handsome  stranger  as  at  beincc  cauGjht. 
Then  she  looked  at  Suramerville  with  what 
was  evidently  intended  for  a  frown,  as  if  she 
would  say :  "  Now,  see  the  pretty  mess  those 
handsome  eyes  of  yours  have  got  me  into  ! 
You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself ! " 
But  the  frown  speedily  vanished  and  gave 
place  to  a  sweet  and  much  more  becoming 
smile,  which  Summerville  promptly  and  gal- 
lantly reciprocated.  The  lady  seemed  a  little 
abashed  at  this,  and  in  her  embarrassment 
caught  the  little  window  fastener  in  her 
dainty  fingers  and  listlessly  thumbed  upon  it 
a  moment.  Presently  she  clicked,  in  toler- 
ably fair  Morse : 

"  I,  I.  That  bright  smile  haunts  me  still." 
Summerville  jumped  bodily  from  his  seat. 
It  had  been  a  question  in  his  mind  all  along 
whether  this  was  all  a  dream,  or  whether  he 
had  merely  taken  leave  of  his  senses.  Now 
he  was  satisfied  that  it  must  be  both.  But  if 
a  dream,  oh,  what  a  delicious  one  !  If  out 
of  his  mind,  he  never  desired  to  be  in  it 
again ! 

She  still  held  the  improvised  telegraph  key 
in  her  fingers.  A  happy  thought  struck 
Summerville.  He  would  telegraph  to  her. 
Tell  her  how  much  he  thought  of  her.  In 
a  few  hours  they  would  be  parted,  perhaps 
forever,  but  here  was  a  means  by  which  he 
could  tell  her  that  she  had  at  least  one 
admirer. 

But  how  was  he  to  doit?  If  the  window 
fastener  beside  him  were  pressed  into  service, 
it  might  attract  attention.  He  felt  in  his 
pockets.  His  lead  pencil !  The  very  thing. 
He  drew  it  from  his  pocket  carelessly,  tapped 
listlessly  for  a  moment  on  the  window  sill,  at 
the  same  time  keeping  his  eyes  intently  upon 
the  young  lady  before  him.  Finally  he 
caught  her  eye.  She  looked  over,  and  he 
spelled  out  very  slowly  in  Morse  charactei's  : 
"  Oh,  I  see  you  are  an  operator." 
Now  it  was  the  lady's  turn  to  be  surprised. 
Had  the  train  been  run  into  and  telescoped, 
the  passengers  tossed  fifty  feet  in  the  air,  and 
half  their  number  killed,  she  could  not  have 
been  more  so.     In  fact,  she  had  half  expected 


that  all  along,  but  to  meet  a  real  live  tele- 
grapher, one  who  could  read  what  she  clicked 
oft*  the  little  window  fastener,  and  answer  her 
in  the  same  "  language,"  was  more  than  her 
most  vivid  imagination  could  have  fancied. 
It  was  several  moments  before  she  recovered 
sufficiently  to  click  back  : 

"  Yes,  or  perhaps  you  would  say  a  plug." 
"If  the  writing,  on    a    regular,  key  is  as 
beautiful  as  the  writer — " 

"  You  musn't  flatter,"  with  a  sweet  smile. 
"  Excuse  me  ;  but  I  — " 
At  this  moment  a  newsboy  interrupted  the 
lovers'  telegraph  by  opening  the  door  and 
bellowing :  "  Only  authorized  guide  to 
Philadelphia  and  the  Centennial,  fifty  cents ! " 
The  father  purchased  a  copy,  and  while  his 
w'ife  and  himself  examined  it  the  young  peo- 
ple kept  up  a  pleasant  telegraphic  communi- 
cation with  their  eyes.  Very  little  was  said, 
but  both  their  faces  wore  pleased,  contented 
smiles,  and  each  seemed  what  might  be  called 
"unutterably"  happy.  He  attempted  to 
say  something  in  telegraphic  characters  with 
the  eye  farthest  from  the  passengers,  and  she 
essayed  a  similar  feat,  but  veracity  compels 
me  to  say  that  neither  effort  was  entirely 
successful. 

As  the  lady  looked  at  Summerville,  the 
one  side  of  his  face  as  solemn  as  a  judge's, 
while  with  the  other  he  made  frantic  efforts 
to  "  send  firm,"  the  spectacle  was  so  grotesque 
that,  completely  forgetting  the  crowd  in  the 
car,  she  gave  vent  to  the  heartiest  kind  of  a 
little  giggle.  Her  father  looked  up  with  a 
frown  and  said,  severely  : 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at,  Eva  ?  " 
She  blushed,  but  did  not  reply. 
Her  mother  looked  at  her,  and  probably 
divining  that  the  handsome  stranger  Avas  at 
the  bottom  of  it,  smiled.  Summerville  was 
so  pleased  that  he  felt  like  throwing  his  arms 
around  the  mother's  neck  and  kissing  her  for 
not  interrupting  their  little  flirtation. 

They  were  now  passing  a  small  station. 
Summerville  consulted  his  watch  and  the 
time-table,  and  found  that  the  train  was  an 
hour  and  thirty-five  minutes   late.     In   less 


104 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


than  thirty  minutes  more  they  woukl  proba- 
bly reach  the  Centennial.  How  he  wished 
that  it  might  be  thirty  hours,  instead  of  thirty 
minutes,  or,  in  fact,  that  "  time  might  at  a 
standstill  be  forever."  He  wanted  a  chance 
to  telegraph  to  the  young  lady  again,  and 
every  turn  of  the  wheel  brought  the  train 
a  little  nearer  the  point  where  they  must  part 
forever.  In  au  hour  they  would  be  sepa- 
rated as  eflectually  as  if  they  never  had  seen 
each  other.  Their  paths  in  life  would  diverge, 
and  she  would  never  know  the  favorable  im- 
pression she  had  created  on  his  mind.  Al- 
thouurh  the  train  was  so  much  behind  time, 
the  journey  had  seemed  a  very  short  one  to 
Sumraerville.  "  How  swiftly  falls  the  foot  of 
time  that  only  treads  on  flowers." 

But  alas !  how  rarely  do  we  poor  mortals 
enjoy  perfectly  unalloyed  happiness.  Like  a 
dark  pall,  some  unwelcome  thought  is  sure  to 
intrude  ever  upon  our  most  delicious  mo- 
ments, casting  a  gloomy  shadow  over  the 
sunshine,  and  tinging  our  joy  with  sadness. 
Althoucrh  Summerville  felt  how  delightful 
it  would  be  if,  instead  of  coming  home  to  a 
cold,  cheerless  boarding-house,  he  should  be 
every  evening  welcomed  by  the  pleasant 
countenance  and  genial  smile  of  the  lady  be- 
fore him ;  and  if  the  entire  day  were  one 
ffiorantic  struggle  with  "  crosses,"  "  breaks," 
and  "grounds,"  how  pleasantly  he  could  lay 
his  head  in  her  lap  at  night,  forgetting  his 
business  perplexities,  and  feel,  in  that  little 
circle  where  nobody  was  above  him  and 
nobody  unsympathetic,  as  if  he  were  in  a 
heaven  of  ease  and  reparation — notwithstand- 
ing this,  and  even  in  the  midst  of  the  pleasant 
thoughts  occasioned  by  what  had  just  trans- 
pired, Summerville  could  not  dispell  others 
of  a  more  unwelcome  character,  which  arose 
unbidden,  and  would  not  be  kept  down,  de- 
spite his  assiduous  endeavors  to  turn  his 
thoughts  into  other  channels. 

The  train  was  heavily  loaded,  and  pro- 
gressed slowly.  When  it  got  into  a  kind  of 
"dog  trot,"  Summerville  could  not  persuade 
himself  but  that  the  wheels  were  repeating 
the  injunction  of  Mrs.  Norton : 


"  Love  not,  love  not,  ye  hapless  sons  of  clay  ! 

Hope's  u;ayest  wreaths  arc  made  of  earthly  flowers- 
Things  that  are  made  to  fade  and  fall  away 

When  they  have  blossomed  but  a  few  short  hours. 

"Love  not,  love  not,  the  thiuf^you  love  may  cluiuj;c, 
The  rosy  lips  may  cease  to  sniile  on  you ; 

The  kindly  beainin;;  eye  grow  cold  and  strange, 
The  heart  still  warmly  beat,  yet  not  be  true." 

Then  he  would  laugh  at  himself  for  feeling 
annoyed  because  these  particular  lines  hap- 
pened to  occur  to  him  at  that  instant.  He 
felt  that  she  was  too  good,  too  innocent,  and 
too  beautiful  to  be  other  than  a  whole-souled, 
sweet-tempered,  constant  and  true  woman. 

But  as  the  engineer,  finding  the  train  get- 
ting farther  and  farther  behind  schedide 
time,  had  the  fire  replenished,  and  put  on 
more  steam,  the  quicker  whirl  of  the  wheels 
seemed  to  flaunt  back  in  his  face  the  words 
of  Mrs.  Osgood : 

"  Beautiful,  3'es!  but  the  blush  will  fade, 
The  light  grow  dim  which  the  blue  eyes  Avcar; 

The  gloss  will  vanish  from  curl  and  braid. 
And  the  sunbeams  die  in  the  waving  hair." 

Still  the  young  lady  sat  thei-e  as  grace- 
ful as  a  queen,  occasionally  smiling  as  she 
looked  at  Summerville,  "like  moonlight  on  a 
troubled  sea  brightening  the  storm  it  cannot 
calm."  Summerville  made  several  efforts  to 
reopen  telegraphic  communication  with  her, 
but  on  only  one  occasion  was  he  successful. 
After  attracting  her  attention  he  drummed 
with  his  pencil : 

"  Eva,  of  thee  I'm  fondly  dreaming." 

She  bowed  lier  head  a  little  and  smiled. 
They  had  now  reached  the  junction.  Two 
trains  were  on  the  track  ahead  of  them,  but 
after  a  slight  delay,  they  proceeded.  The 
flag-bedecked  buildings  were  soon  in  sight, 
and  every  one  was  on  qui  vive  to  get  a 
jxlance  of  them.  Summerville  felt  that  the 
moments  to  be  spent  in  her  company  were 
now  fast  waning.  He  took  out  his  note-book 
and  pencil  and  wrote. 

"I  wonder  if  it  would  be  proper  to  hand 
her  this  1 "  he  mused.  "  I  don't  want  to  give 
her  my  correct  name  just  yet,  but  I  shall 
surely  do  so  if  she  answers." 

After  a  moment's  pause  ho  continued : 
"  Although  I  may  never  see  the  young  lady 
again,  I  wouldn't  offend  her  sensitive  nature 


A   CENTENNIAL-TELEGRAPHIC  ROMANCE. 


105 


for  the  ■world,  but  I  don't  think  there  can  be 
any  harm  in  handing  her  the  note,  or  endeav- 
oring to  make  lier  acquaintance : 

•She  is  lovely,  therefore  to  be  wooed, 
She  is  woman,  therefore  to  be  won.' 

And   then   there's   the   noble  motto  of  the 

gallant  Montrose : — 

'  He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much, 

Or  his  deserts  are  small, 
Who  dares  not  put  it  to  the  touch, 
And  gain  or  lose  it  all.'  " 

Having  thus  logically  argued  the  matter 
out  to  his  own  entire  satisfaction,  he  folded 
the  paper  and  waited,  Avondering  whether 
he  would  have  an  opportunity  of  handing  it 
to  her. 

Presently  the  train  moved  slowly  up  in 
front  of  the  Atlas  Hotel,  where  it  stopped. 
There  was  a  grand  rush  for  the  doors.  Sum- 
merville  alighted  quickly,  and  remained  at 
one  side,  awaiting  an  opportunity  to  present 
the  little  note  to  the  lady  in  whom  he 
already  felt  so  much  interest.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments the  trio  approached — the  mother  a 
^  few  steps  in  advance,  the  daughter  next,  and 
the  father  bringing  up  the  rear.  Summer- 
ville  found  no  opportunity  of  handing  her 
the  note,  however,  for  the  father,  immediately 
behind,  watched  her  every  movement.  All 
Summerville  could  do  was  to  look  once  more 
into  those  sweet  eyes.  She  simply  returned 
the  gaze — all  she  could  do  under  the  circum- 
stances. 

Summerville's  heart  sank  within  him.  Oh  ! 
the  conventional  rules  of  etiquette  that  pre- 
vented his  making  known  liis  regard  for  his 
beautiful  fellow  passenger.  He  watched  her 
as  she  gracefully  moved  with  the  rest  of  the 
crowd  toward  the  admission  gate.  "  It  is 
too  bad,"  he  muttered,  "that  after  I  had 
almost  come  to  love  her,  we  should  be  thus 
ruthlessly  parted.  Well  might  Byron  say, 
'  There's  not  a  joy  the  world  can  give,  like 
that  it  takes  away.' " 

He  stood  almost  dazed  for  several  mo- 
ments. He  had  lost  all  interest  in  the  Cen- 
tennial, and  felt  that  the  Art  Gallery  could 
not  interest  him  now.  However,  he  would 
go  within  the  grounds.     Perhaps  he  might 


meet  her  there.  He  felt  that  at  least  it  was 
possible,  though  by  no  means  probable. 

At  length  he  reached  the  gate.  He  had  a 
fifty  cent  stamp  in  his  hand,  and  was  stepping 
forward  to  pass  through  the  turnstile,  when 
he  noticed  that  but  few  of  his  fellow  passen- 
gers had  yet  gone  in,  nearly  all  requiring  to 
procure  the  necessary  change.  At  the  win- 
dow stood  Eva's  father.  Summerville  looked 
around  for  the  young  lady  herself;  at  last  he 
saw  her,  and  catching  her  eye,  she  smiled. 
There  was  a  considerable  crowd,  the  father 
had  just  procured  change,  and  motioned  his 
wife  and  daughter  to  follow  him.  But  pro- 
gress was  slow.  The  mother  was  aijain  in 
front,  and  the  daughter  a  short  distance 
behind.  Summerville  approached  the  young 
lady.  He  wanted  to  at  least  speak  to  her. 
"Excuse  me.  Miss,  but  do  you  remain  long 
in  Philadelphia?"  he  said,  trying  to  speak 
naturally,  and  without  trepidation. 

"  Until  next  Tuesday,"  she  replied,  pleas- 
antly and  unaffectedly. 

"Please  read  that  when  you  reach  your 
jhotel  to-night,"  and  he  blushingly  handed 
her  the  note. 

\  They  had  now  reached  the  turnstile.  She 
stepped  inside,  and  he  followed.  Her  father, 
mother,  and  herself  walked  slowly  toward 
the  House  of  Public  Comfort,  and  Summer- 
ville toward  where  the  large  bell  was  ring- 
ing out  a  noonday  chime.  Summerville  saw 
her  place  the  scrap  of  paper  in  the  pocket 
of  her  handsomely  fitting  jacket.  As  they 
separated  she  looked  toward  him,  and  once 
more  smiled.  All  the  sunshine  of  his  life 
returned,  and  he  walked  off,  humming  : 

They  may  rail  at  this  life,  from  the  hour  I  began  it, 
I've  found  it  a  life  full  of  comfort  and  bliss  ; 

And  until  thev  can  show  me  some  happier  planet, 
More  socialand  bright,  I'll  content  me  with  this." 

At  the  House  of  Public  Comfort  our  three 

friends  partook  of  some  refreshments,  and 

the  younger  member  of  the  family,  Avith  the 

curiosity  of  her  sex,  glanced  surreptitiously 

at  Summerville's  note.     It  read : 

"If  not  asking  too  much,  it  would  afford  me  great 
pleasure  to  receive  a  note  from  you  at  your  convenience. 
Please  address  C.  8.  St.  John,  care  P.  O.  Box,  3,393, 
New  York," 


106 


LIOHTNINO  FLASHES. 


Box  :i,au;j,  be  it  known,  is  the  Tost  Office 
box  of  the  Western  Union  Telegraph  Com- 
pany, at  tlie  New  York  General  Post  Office. 


CnAPTER  II. 

"  Charles  INLailagcnt  Holmes,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  At  your  service." 

It  was  Sunday  morning.  The  genial 
mail  agent,  who  acts  as  floor  manager,  so  to 
speak,  of  the  Western  Union  general  office 
on  the  Christian  Sabbath,  sat  near  the  win- 
dow beside  the  stock  indicator,  in  the  receiv- 
ing department. 

"  Ilavn't  you  received  a  letter  for  C.  S.  St. 
John,  yet?" 

"No,  I've  been  on  the  lookout  ever  since 
you  spoke  about  it,  but  so  far  it  has  not 
made  its  debuV^ 

"Two  weeks  ago,  last  Thursday.  It 
seems  like  two  years.  She  was  to  have  left 
Philadelphia  last  Tuesday  week.  Suppose 
she  reached  home  on  Wednesday,  she  has 
had  ten  days  to  write,  and  yet  no  letter. 
'  Out  of  sight,  out  of  mind,'  I  suppose,  and, 
yet,  if  she  only  knew  how  honestly  and  de- 
votedly I  already  love  her,  she  would  have 
written ;   but  women  have  always  been  an 


enigma 


to   me,   I   never   could   understand 


them;  I  did  think,  however,  that  she  was  an 
exception.  Oh,  Charlie,  if  you  could  only 
have  seen  her." 

"  What !  Suramerville,  are  you  at  last  a 
victim  of  the  tender  passion  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madly,  irrevocably,  hopelessly — and 
I  don't  even  know  the  name  of  the  lady  in 
the  case.  But,  Charlie,  you  wouldn't  blame 
me  if  you  could  only  see  her.  Oh,  that  face  ! 
*  so  lovely,  yet  so  arch,  the  overflowing  of  an 
innocent  heart.'" 

"  More  than  painting  can  express,  or  youth- 
ful poets  iancy  when  they  love,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  could  not  begin  to  tell  you  how 
lovely  that  young  lady  was.  There  are  not 
woi'ds  enough  in  the  entire  English  language. 
She  was  like  a  dream  of  poetry  that  may  not 
be  written  or  told — exceedingly  beautiful." 
"  Well,  Sumraervillc,  you're  the  last  man 


in  the  building  I'd  have  accused  of  falling  in 
love  with  a  pretty  face  without  knowing  one 
iota  about  the  lady  herself  or  her  folks," 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  positively  know  any- 
thing particularly  to  the  lady's  credit,  but  I 
certainly  know  nothing  to  her  discredit,  and 
surely  she  deserves  the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 
She  has  already  become  the  central  figure  in 
many  of  my  bright  castles  in  the  air,  and  I 
prefer  to  consider  her  all  perfection  until  she 
shall  have  been  proved  otherwise.  Perhaps 
she  has  faults — there  are  few  perfect,  espe- 
cially of  her  sex — but  as  Pope  says : 

'  If  to  her  share  some  female  errors  fall, 
Look  to  her  face  and  you'll  forget  llicm  all.'  " 

"  Which  Pope  said  that,  —  lialph  or 
Frank?" 

"  I'm  in  no  humor  for  jesting  this  morning, 
Mr.  Holmes.     I  want  a  letter  from  Eva." 

"Is  that  her  name?" 

"  Yes ;  but  I  don't  know  her  surname." 

"  Did  you  Eva  1 " 

"By  the  way,  do  you  ever  examine  the 
Post-Office  box  on  Sunday,  Mr.  Holmes  ?  " 

"Sometimes." 

"  I  have  a  presentiment  that  there  is  a  let- 
ter there  from  my  little  Centennial  beauty. 
Won't  you  come  up  and  see  ?  " 

Charlie  being  the  best  natured  and  most 
accommodating  person  in  the  world,  acqui- 
esced, and  they  went. 

Sure  enough,  there  was  the  letter,  ad- 
dressed in  a  neat,  lady-like  hand,  on  a  rich 
cream-colored  fancy  envelope,  postmarked 
Glen  Cove,  L.  I.  Summervillc  clutched  it 
eagerly,  immediately  broke  it  open,  and, 
while  his  heart  beat  a  wild  tattoo  of  ecstatic 
bliss,  read  as  follows  : 

Glen  Cove,  L.  I.,  October  7th,  1876. 
Mr.  C.  S.  St.  Joun— Dear  Sir  :— Presuming  that  you 
have  arrived  home  in  safety  ere  this,  I  will  now  write 
you.  Perhaps  you  don't  know  who  I  am.  (iirl  v/ho 
attracted  your  attention  on  the  train  going  to  the  Cen- 
tennial, and  to  whom  you  "telegraphed"  with  your 
lead  nencil.  That  note  which  you  handed  me  was  quite 
a  little  surprise.  I  supposed  that  when  we  "  parted  at 
the  gate  "  the  lino  was  down,  and  all  further  commu- 
nication between  us  at  an  end,  but  it  appears  that  you 
wish  to  "switch  in  on  another  wire,"  as  it  were,  and 
continue  the  matter,  and  1  don't  know  that  I  am  alto- 
gether unwilling.  I  was  very  favorably  impressed  with 
your  appearance,  and  don't  think  I  should  object  to 
becoming  jjcrsonally  acquainted  with  you.  Father, 
mother,  and  myself   remained   lu    Philadelphia  until 


A   CENTENNIAL-TELEGRAPHIC  ROMANCE. 


107 


September  2Gth,  and  were  all  much  pleased  with  the 
exhibition.  I  particularly  liked  the  Art  Gallery,  though 
I  was  quite  interested  in  Machinery  Hall.  Isn't  Taffa- 
ny's  display  splendid,  especially  that  elej^ant  diamond 
set?  But  perhaps  you  will  never  receive  this  letter. 
If  you  do,  please  answer  soon,  and  send  me  your  photo. 
Your  would-be  friend, 

Eva  C.  Marshall, 
— — Street,  Glen  Cove,  L.  I. 

P.  S.— I  would  like  to  have  an  answer  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, if  convenient.— Eva. 


"  It  must  be  a  very  entertaining  letter  to 
make  you  smile  so  sweetly,"  ventured  the 
mail  agent,  after  a  pause. 

"  It  is.  It's  a  delightful  letter  from  a  de- 
liijlitful  woman." 

"  I  see  she's  not  like  the  one  I  once  met 
at  a  ball.  I  was  young  and  gay  then,  and 
*  buzzed '  this  one  considerably  that  evening. 
After  awhile  I  bent  over  gracefully,  handed 
her  my  address,  and  remarked  benignly  that 
I  should  like  to  receive  a  note  from  her  some- 
time. But  oh,  my!  didn't  she  get  on  her 
dignity,  though  !  She  looked  at  me  in  wild 
astonishment  and  perfect  horror,  and  said, 
witheringly,  '  No,  sir !  I  never  write  to  gen- 
tlemen. I  think  it's  against  the  rules  of  im- 
propriety ! ' " 

"  You  might  have  told  her  that  you  were 
no  gentleman,"  suggested  Sumraerville,  quiz- 
zingly. 

He  seemed  to  have  dodged  abruptly 
enough,  but  it  took  him  near  the  terminus 
of  the  spinal  column  all  the  same. 

"  Does  she  add  a  postscript  to  that  letter," 
asked  the  mail  agent,  after  another  pause. 

"  She  does,"  answered  Summerville. 

"  Oh,  of  course  !  I  never  knew  a  woman 
yet  to  write  a  letter  without  a  postscript, 
unless  by  accident.  She  seems  to  consider  a 
postscript  her  inalienable  write,  as  it  were. 
I  remember  when  I  was  young  and  in  my 
prime  my  girl  once  w^ent  off  on  a  visit.  She 
said  she  would  write  every  alternate  day, 
sure.  'Do,'  I  replied, '  and  for  the  love  of  good- 
ness do  not  add  to  every  letter  '  please  ex- 
cuse writing  and  spelling,'  and  above  all, 
don't  add  a  postscript ;  most  women  do,  and 
if  there  is  any  one  thing  I  detest  more  than 
another,  it's  a  postscript.'  She  said  she 
•wouldn't.     The  first  letter  came  at  last,  and 


after  very  sensibly  and  exhaustively  touching 
on  every  point  of  interest,  and  signing  her 
name,  she  added:  'P.  S. — Now  you  see  I 
can  Avrite  a  letter  without  a  postscript ! '  " 

Summerville  thought  that  Charlie  mani- 
fested entirely  too  much  disposition  to  se- 
verely criticize  the  gentler  sex,  and  gallantly 
came  to  the  rescue  by  remarking : 

"And,  yet,  with  all  their  little  short- 
comings, what  would  we  do  were  it  not  for 
woman : 

'  Without  the  smile  from  partial  beauty  won, 
Oh  !  what  were  man— a  world  without  a  sun  ! '  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  replied  the  mail 
agent,  "  how  we  would  get  along  without 

'  Dear  woman  !  who  divides  our  joys, 
And  trebles  our  expenses,' 

"  But  I  know  one  lady  that  I  think  the 
great  American  people  could  manage  to  dis- 
pense with.  She  is  immortalized  in  a  little 
poetic  gem  I  have  in  my  pocket,"  and  he 
hunted  for  some  time,  and  finally  produced 
a  Western  Union  blank  with  somethinir 
scrawled  on  the  back,  which  after  assuming 
a  dramatic  posture,  he  read  as  follows  : 

"  '  He  stood  on  his  head  on  the  wild  seashore. 

And  joy  was  the  cause  of  the  act, 
For  he  felt  as  he  never  had  felt  before, 

Insanely  glad  in  fact. 
And  why  ?     In  that  vessel  that  left  the  bay, 

His  mother-in-law  had  sailed, 
To  a  tropical  country  far  away, 

Where  tigers  and  snakes  prevailed.'  " 

"  You  would  change  your  mind  on  the 
subject  of  woman,  I  think,  if  you  only  en- 
joyed the  acquaintance  of  such  persons  as 
Eva — Miss  Marshall — that's  her  name,"  sug- 
gested Summerville,  at  a  loss  exactly  what  to 
say  next. 

"I  havn't  the  slightest  doubt,"  replied 
Charlie,  "  but  that  Miss  Marshall  is  like  the 
rest  of  her  sex — after  marriage  she'll  think 
that  two  and  two  will  come  to  make  five,  if 
she  only  cries  and  bothers  enough  about  it, 
and  I  dare  say  she'll  turn  out  as  proverbial- 
ly obstinate  as  the  rest  of  them. 

'  I  will,'  Avhen  I  am  made  a  bride, 
'  I  won't,'  through  all  my  life  beside. 

"  I  have  my  own  opinion,  moreover,  of  girls 
who  carry  their  '  hearts '  in  their  sleeve  on 


108 


LIOUTm^G   FLASHES. 


'  Centennial '  trains,  and  part  with  them  so 
very  easily,  as  Miss  Marbball  appears  to  Lave 
done," 

Summery  ille  felt  that  he  was  losing  ground. 
His  face  flushed  scarlet,  and  he  replied  pet- 
tishly : 

"You  may  not,  perhaps,  be  aware  that 
there  is  a  period  in  the  early  life  of  every 
true  woman  when  moral  and  intellectual 
oTOwth  seems  for  a  time  to  cease.  The 
vacant  heart  seeks  for  an  occupant —  " 

"Always  of  the  opposite  sex,  too,  inter- 
rupted Mr.  Holmes. 

'Men  disunite  and  differ  in  their  plan 
But  w  omen  are  for  union— to  a  man.'  " 

"The  intellect,"  continued  Sumraerville, 
without  appearing  to  notice  the  interruption, 
"seems  to  feel  the  necessity  of  more  intimate 
companionship  with  the  masculine  mind. 
Here,  at  this  point,  some  stand  for  years, 
without  making  a  step  in  advance — " 

"  True  as  gospel,"  broke  in  the  mail  agent 
asrain.  "I  knew  one  woman  who  stuck 
right  there  for  twenty-thr^^e  years  to  my 
own  knowledge,  and  the  cream  of  the  joke  is, 
that  she  was  always  just  twenty-four  years 
of  age ! " 

"  Others,"  continued  Summerville,  looking 
disdainfully  down  upon  the  mail  agent,  but 
without  noticing  what  he  said,  "  marry,  and 
astonish  in  a  few  brief  years,  by  their  sweet 
temper,  their  new  beauty,  their  high  accom- 
plishments, and  their  noble  womanhood, 
those  whose  blindness  led  them  to  suppose 
women  devoid  of  such  traits." 

"  Summerville !  you've  been  drinking  !  " 
ejaculated  the  mail  agent,  excitedly.  "  But," 
he  continued,  in  a  lower  key,  "  if  you'd  only 
get  off  such  a  speech  as  that  to  Miss — 
what  did  you  say  her  name  was? — country 
swains,  even  with  two  pounds  of  candy  in 
one  pocket,  and  a  dozen  sticks  of  chewing 
gum  in  the  other,  would  sink  into  utter  in- 
significance in  her  eyes  before  you.  When 
you  go  down  you  must  choose  a  moonlight 
night,  and  serenade  her.  How  I'd  like  to  be 
there  to  hear  you  bellowing  forth  :  '  When 
the  mo-oon  is  shi-hi-hi-ning  o'er  the  lake.  Oh, 


the-hen  I'll  thi-hink  of  thee-he-he-hee !  Oh, 
the-hen.  Oh  !  the-hen,  I'll  thi-hink  of  thee  ! ' 
Serenading  is  delightful  recreation,  espe- 
cially when  the  old  gentleman  gets  up  and 
hurls  endearing  epithets,  brickbats  and  other 
miscellaneous  articles  at  you.  But  these 
things  should  not  discourage  you.  The 
greater  the  difficulty,  the  more  glory  there  is 
in  surmounting  it.  You  can  quietly  wait  until 
the  enraged,  stern  parient  retires,  and  then 
step  up  under  the  window,  and  sing : 

'  If  Eva  I  cease  to  love, 
May  Jav  Gould  become  President  of  the  W.  U.  T. , 
If  Eva  1  cease  to  love.' 

"And  wdien  the  angelic  creature  herself 
appears  at  the  window  and  tenderly  lisps 
that  magic  word,  "  Uradarling,"  or  starts  a 
dog  the  size  of  a  flour  barrel  after  you,  you 
can  then  properly  appreciate  the  fact  that 
women  were  sent  into  this  wicked  world  of 
ours  'to  fling  golden  gleamings  over  the 
sombre  tints  of  life.' " 

Summerville  saw  that  the  mail  agent  was 
incorrigible.  "I  have  an  engagement  up 
town,  Mr.  Holmes,  which  calls  me  away,"  he 
said,  "  but  at  some  more  convenient  season  I 
will  call  at  the  office,  and  we'll  talk  the  whole 
matter  over."  And  as  they  reached  the  door, 
he  added:  "In  the  meantime,  I'm  ever  so 
much  obliored  for  the  letter — thrice  thousand 
thanks,  my  friend.     Good  morning." 

To  give  Summerville's  reply  and  the  sub- 
sequent letters,  which  followed  thick  and  fast 
between  the  two  young  people,  w^ould  occupy 
too  much  space,  and  it  is  questionable  if  they 
would  interest  the  general  reader.  Such  cor- 
respondence, interesting  as  it  is  to  the  parties 
immediately  concerned,  is  stale  and  dry  to 
the  world  at  large.  Summerville,  however, 
in  his  third  letter  inclosed  his  photograph — 
one  that  he  had  taken  specially  for  herself — 
and  she  reciprocated  by  sending  him  her 
very  latest  in  return.  In  a  subsequent  letter 
Miss  Marshall  said  that  herself  and  her  friend 
Miss  Parker  had  been  contemplating  a  two 
days'  visit  to  some  friends  in  the  city,  and 
had  finally  concluded  to  start  the  following 
Thursday.     Nobody  was  to  meet  them  in  the 


A   CENTENNIAL-TELEORAPHIC  ROMANCE. 


109 


city,  and  she  thought  it  would  be  "  so  nice  " 
if  Mr.  St.  John  would  meet  them  on  the 
Long  Island  side.  Of  course  "  Mr.  St.  John" 
did.  He  was  introduced  to  Miss  Parker,  a 
young  lady  of  about  sixteen,  and  whom  'twere 
base  flattery  to  call  handsome.  This  fact, 
however,  only  enhanced  Miss  Marshall's 
beauty  in  his  eyes,  and  of  course,  in  the 
latter's  company,  he  scarcely  even  noticed 
Miss  P. 

Summerville  saw  the  ladies  to  their  friend's 
house,  called  for  them  in  the  evening,  and 
escorted  them,  one  on  each  arm,  to  Gilmore's 
Garden.  The  next  morning  the  Plymouth 
Rock  went  on  an  excursion  to  New  Haven, 
and  among  the  passengers  were  our  three 
friends,  bright  and  joyous  as  three  birds. 

It  is  a  trite  saying  that  it  never  rains  but 
it  pours.  Summerville  found  it  so.  For 
years  he  had  wandered  comparatively  friend- 
less and  forlorn  in  a  cold,  unsympathetic 
world,  feeling  the  lack  of  a  kindred  spirit  to 
whom  he  might  pour  out  his  soul  in  love,  and 
who  would  love  him  in  return,  and  now  when 
the  kindred  spirit  did  come,  it  came  double  ! 

As  they  drew  three  camp-stools  into  an  eli- 
gible position  and  sat  down,  Summerville 
could  not  help  muttering  to  himself: 

"  How  happy  I  could  be  with  Eva, 
Were  'tother  dear  charmer  away." 

As  he  pondered  how  he  was  honorably  to 
rid  himself  for  a  time  of  Miss  Parker,  a  co- 
laborer  in  the  "Western  Union  main  ofiice 
passing,  stumbled  upon  him." 

"Hello!  Summerville;  glad  to  see  you; 
going  to  New  Haven  ?  " 

"  Summerville  ?  "  Miss  Marshall  looked  at 
him  inquiringly. 

"My  middle  name,"  he  explained,  while  a 
guilty  blush  sufiused  his  face — "  Charles  Sum- 
merville St.  John." 

The  main  oflice  man  had  passed  "  aft,"  and 
of  course  did  not  hear  the  fib. 

"  Oh !"  thought  Summerville, "  I  wish  I  had 
told  her  my  real  name,  and  I  would,  too,  had 
she  been  alone." 

This  little  incident  annoyed  him  so  much 
that  he  determined  to  tell  Miss   Marshall 


his  real  name  at  once,  but  of  course  they 
must  be  alone.  He  must  rid  himself  of  Miss 
Parker  in  some  manner.  Excusing  himself  a 
moment,  he  followed  the  denizen  of  the  main 
office,  and  addressed  him  thusly  : 

"  Say,  Marvin,  I  should  like  to  introduce 
you  to  a  very  intelligent  young  lady.  You 
are  alone,  I  see,  while  I  have  two,  and  as  I 
am  not  at  all  selfish,  I  thought  I  would  like 
to  make  you  happy  for  the  day.  Come 
along !" 

Marvin  went,  and  an  introduction  fol- 
lowed. Summerville  is  a  rather  bashful  per- 
son, but  no  such  accusation  can  be  brought 
against  Marvin.  The  latter,  moreover,  ap- 
preciates good  looks  in  the  gentler  sex,  and 
it  did  not  take  him  long  to  get  into  pleasant 
conversation  with  the  ladies,  honoring  Miss 
Marshall  with  many  an  approving  smile.  But 
that  wasn't  the  worst  of  it.  In  a  few  min- 
utes he  remarked,  persuasively,  "  P'raps  the 
ladies  would  like  a  promenade  around  the 
boat;"  and  the  great,  selfish,  blundering, 
heartless  idiot  actually  oflfered  his  arm  to 
JEvay  and  left  Summerville  to  bring  up  the 
rear  with  the  homely  Miss  Parker ! 

Although  a  man  who  seldom,  if  ever,  in- 
dulged in  an  oath,  Summerville  felt  that 
about  two  dozen  good  enthusiastic  ones  on 
this  occasion  would  be  a  positive  relief.  I 
am  happy  to  say,  however,  that  his  early 
Sunday  school  education  triumphed.  He 
merely  began  repeating  something  about 
"  Heaven's  etherial  blue,"  but  stopped  after 
the  first  word.  Some  would,  perhaps,  have 
called  it  swearing,  but  they  don't  know  Sum- 
merville as  well  as  I  do.  He  was  simply  a 
little  frustrated — that  was  all. 

Although  Summerville  spent  a  miserable 
day  in  consequence  of  being  compelled  to 
dance  attendance  upon  a  lady  he  did  not  care 
for,  while  another  basked  in  the  sunny  smile 
of  the  seraphic  being  he  adored.  Miss  Mar- 
shall considerably  relieved  his  mind  before 
they  parted  that  night  by  assuring  him,  Avith 
womanly  tact  and  sweetness,  of  her  gratitude 
for  his  many  kindnesses  during  her  brief  stay, 
and  so  on.     She  was  to  return  to  her  Long 


110 


LIGUTNING  FLASHES- 


Island  home   tlie    I'oUuwing   afternoon,    and 
pi'omiscd  to  si)cedily  writf. 

Marvin,  deliglilfully  unconscious  tliat  lie 
had  so  nearly  succeeded  in  severing  two  lov- 
ing hearts,  had  stuck  to  Miss  ]\rarshall  per- 
sistently all  day,  but  Sumnierville  could  not 
blame  him.  It  only  showed  his  good  taste. 
lie  vowed,  however,  that  if  ever  Miss  Mar- 
shall visited  the  city  again,  he  should  make 
a  ])ointof  not  introducing  her  to  Marvin  "  or 
any  other  fellow." 

On  Monday  evening  business  was  dull  on 
Summerville's  wire,  and  he  stepped  over  to 
the  Glen  Cove  desk  to  speak  to  the  ojDcrator. 
Miss  Marshall,  he  had  already  learned,  was 
not  a  regular  operator,  but  had  merely  taken 
a  fancy  to  telegraphy,  and  often  came  to  the 
office  to  practice.  Her  father  was  well  off 
in  the  world's  goods,  being  the  proprietor  of 
an  extensive  manufactory,  and  she  never  ex- 
pected ,to  be  under  the  necessity  of  earning 
her  own  living,  either  by  wafting  lightning 
or  otherwise,  but  the  mysterious  art  inter- 
ested her,  and  so  she  learned  it. 

He  had  just  succeeded  in  attracting  Glen 
Cove's  attention,  when  that  lady  said, "  Here 
is  a  message  for  you — please  take  it,"  and 
went  on : 

♦'  No.  5.    Glen  Cove,  L.  I.,  23d. 
To  J.  S.  Marvin,  W.  U.  Tel.  Office,  New  York : 

Arrived  an  hour  ac;o.    A  little  tired,  but  quite  well. 
Will  write  you  to-night.  Eva. 

14.     D.  li. 

Summerville  finished  the  message,  gave 
O.  K.,  and  left  the  wire  without  speaking  to 
the  Glen  Cove  operator,  as  he  had  intended. 
The  fact  is,  he  was  too  much  thunderstruck 
at  Miss  Marshall's  conduct,  in  the  light  of  the 
message  he  had  just  received,  to  take  much  in- 
terest in  anything  her  friend  the  Glen  Cove 
operator  miglit  say  about  her. 

He  could  see  the  whole  thing  distinctly — 
Miss  Marshall  had  not  gone  home  on  Satur- 
day, but  remained  in  the  city  until  after  Sun- 
day. Marvin  had  called  upon  her,  and  she 
had  agreed  to  open  a  correspondence  with 
bim. 

"  What  a  precious  jackass  I  have  been  to 


think  so  much  of  one  who  has  proved  her- 
self so  utterly  unworthy  of  honest  affection," 
Summerville  muttered,  as  he  sadly  wended 
his  Avay  back  to  his  own  wire.  "  I  thought 
I  had  found  an  angel,  but  she  turns  out  to  be 
a  very  ordinary  mortal — in  fact  a  full-liedged 
flirt.  I  can  now  truthfully  say  Avitli  Tom 
Moore : 

'Away,  away — you're  all  the  same,^ 
A  fluttering,  smiling,  jilting  throng  ! 

Oh,  by  my  soul,  1  burn  with  shame 
To  think  I've  been  your  slave  so  long  ! '  " 

It  was  late  ere  Summerville  reached  his 
room  that  night,  but  he  could  not  sleep  until 
he  had  written  Miss  Mashall.  His  letter  ran 
as  follows,  and  to  him  was  perhaps  one  of  the 
saddest  he  had  ever  penned : 

New  York,  October  23, 1ST6. 
Dear  Miss  Marshall  : — You  don't  know  how  pained 
I  was  this  evening  to  read  your  telegram  to  Mr.  Marvin, 
which  I  happened  to  receive.  I  have  been  extremely 
disappointed  in  you.  1  suppose  there  is  no  use  now  in 
denying  that  since  our  rathei  rou^antic  meeting  on  the 
way  to  the  Centennial,  I  had  already  learned  to — may  I 
say  itV — love  you — honestly,  devotedly,  tenderly.  1 
fondly  hoped  that  you  might  in  time  reeii)rocate  that 
love,  but  in  the  face  of  your  message  to  Mr.  Marvin  I 
now  see  the  utter  madness  of  such  a  hope.  Would  that 
we  had  never  met!  If  you  could  only  know  the  i)ang 
that  you  have  caused  one  who,  since  he  has  known  you, 
lias  been  happy  only  in  your  smile,  and  who  even  now 
would  almost,  as  somebody  says,  "  rather  die  than  live 
without  you,"  you  would  at  least  pity  me.  1  should 
like  to  hear  from  you  just  once  more — literally  your 
farewell  letter.  After  that  I  shall  never  trouble  you 
again.  In  the  meantime,  please  excuse  the  show  of 
feeling  in  this  letter.  I  had  come  to  regard  you  as  one 
woman  picked  out  of  ten  thousand,  and  this  sudden  and 
very  unexpected  blow  stuns  me.  1,  however,  cordially 
and  sincerely  wish  you  every  hapjiiness  through  life, 
and  pray  that  your  future  may  be  always  bright  and  full 
of  sunshine.    As  Erin's  bard  says : 

"  Well,  peace  to  thy  heart,  though  another's  it  be, 
Aud  health  to  thy  check,  though  it  bloom  not  for  me." 

And  now,  as  nothing  remains  on  my  part  but  to  say 
farewell,  perhaps  the  sooner  it  is  said  the  better : 

"Adieu,  adieu,  our  dream  of  love 

Was  far  too  sweet  to  linger  long; 
Such  hojics  may  bloom  in  bowers  above, 

But  here  they  mock  the  fond  and  youug.1 
We  met  in  hope ;  we  part  in  tears ! 

Yet  oh  1  'tis  sadly  sweet  to  know 
That  life  in  all  its  future  years 

Can  reach  us  with  no  heavier  blow." 

Disconsolately,  but  still  your  friend, 

C.  S.  St.  John. 

Time  dragged  its  weary  length  along,  very 
drearily  to  Summerville,  until  the  following 
Thursday,  Avhen  he  was  handed  a  letter  post- 
marked Glen  Cove,  and  in  Miss  Marshall's 
handwriting.  He  opened  it  nervously,  and 
read :    ■ 


A   CENTENNIAL- TELEGRAPHIC  ROMANCE.  ] 


111 


Glen  Cove,  October  25,  1876. 

Dear  Mr.  St.  John  :— Yours  of  23(1  surprised  me 
so  much  that  I  went  straightway  to  the  tele}»taph  office 
to  investi<;ate  the  case,  'it  turns  out  that  ou  Monday 
Mr.  Marvin's  sister,  a  namesiilcc  of  mine,  came  on  a  visit 
to  some  friends  in  Glen  Cove,  and  dcshinp:  to  notify  her 
brother,  who  was  on  duty  at  the  New  York  main  office, 

of  her  arrival,  Miss  (the  operator)  sent  a  message 

to  him  D.  H.  That's  the  whole  matter..  Ha!  ha!  it's 
a  pood  joke.  And  to  think  tliai  you  gave  me  credit 
for  being  the  Eva ! 

Believe  me,  1  should  be  very  sorry  indeed  if  your  let- 
ters stopped.  I  enjoy  them  very  much,  and  don't  think 
I  can  ever  forget  one  who  has  shown  me  so  many  kind- 
nesses. I  mentioned  to  papa  yesterday  that  I  was  going 
to  invite  a  gentleman  I  had  met  in  New  York  to  come 
down  and  spend  a  Sunday  with  us.  I  asked  him  if  he 
would  consider  it  bold  of  me,  and  he  said  not  if  I  were 
well  enough  acquainted  with  the  gentleman.  Papa 
likes  New  Yorkers.  I  wish  you  would  come  down  some 
Suuday.  We  will  try  and  make  your  visit  pleasant. 
Please  answer  soon,  and  say  when  you  think  you  can 
come. 

Very  truly  your  friend,  tvA. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  this  letter  com- 
pletely dispelled  any  doubts  Sumraerville 
Lad  ever  entertained  in  regard  to  the  state 
of  the  young  lady's  feelings  toward  him.  Of 
course  he  was  overjoyed  to  know  that  she 
was  not  the  Ev,a  who  had  sent  the  message, 
and  gratified  beyond  measure  to  receive  so 
welcome  an  invitation  to  visit  her. 

In  his  next  letter  Summerville  fully  ex- 
plained why  he  had  assumed  the  name  of  St. 
John — not  knowing  anything  of  Miss  Mar- 
shall, lie  did  not  care  to  give  his  correct  cog- 
nomen until  he  should  hear  from  her,  and 
afterward  kept  putting  it  ofi"  from  letter  to 


letter.  He  now  begged  her  pardon  for  the 
deception,  well  knowing  that  it  would  be 
promptly  granted. 

When  Summerville  visited  Glen  Cove, 
he  was  treated  with  great  politeness,  Mr, 
and  Mrs.  Marshall  hoping  he  would  come 
to  see  them  often.  He  found  the  former 
much  more  genial  and  less  distant  and  austere 
than  he  had  at  first  given  him  credit  for;  the 
latter  sweeter  and  more  pleasant  than  ever. 
Mrs.  Marshall  evidently  remembered  him  in 
connection  with  the  trij)  to  the  Centennial, 
but  her  husband  did  not  appear  to  think  he 
had  ever  seen  him  before. 

Of  course  the  young  people  have  grown 
more  and  more  attached  to  each  other  every 
day.  He  often  remarks  that  with  "Xew 
York  day "  is  associated  the  most  important 
event  of  his  life,  and  if  Miss  Marshall  were 
questioned  I  have  no  doubt  she  would  say 
the  same  thing. 

I  am  looking  every  week  for  the  announce- 
ment of  their  marriage  in  the  telegraphic  pa- 
pers— regretfully,  too,  for  I  know  that  imme- 
diately after  that  event  the  fraternity  will 
lose  an  expert  operator  and  genial  gentle- 
man, as  Mr.  Marshall  is  to  be  succeeded  in 
the  active  supervision  of  his  manufactory  by 
his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Sydney  Summerville. 


J5i/  Telegraph. 


Click  !  click !  click  1  and  the  clattering  tongue  of 

brass 
Seems  alive  as  I  listen  and  hear  the  signals  pass  ; 
Many  a  wonderful  message  goes  flashing  along  the 

wire  [tlire. 

With  words  of  joyful  greeting  or  a  tale  of  calamity 

Travels  the  spark  electric  over  mountain,  and  val- 
ley, and  hill, 

Under  the  deep-flowing  river,  over  the  rippling  rill. 

Hark  to  the  message  flashmg  through  the  crystal  air 
of  morn, 

"  Unto  us  a  son  is  given,  an  immortal  soul  is  bom." 


CUck !  cUck !  click !  and  the  mystical  wires  again 

Are  telling  another  story  unto  the  children  of  men ; 

"  Masseltof,  greeting  we  send  you,  may  your  happi- 
ness lasting  be, 

Your  wedded  life  be  joyful,  your  path  from  care  be 
free." 

And  yet  another  message  is  mournfully  flashing  by 

As  only  the  lightning  travels  or  evil  tidings  fly ; 

Imagine  the  heart's  emotion  as  the  sorrowful  mis- 
sive is  read, 

*'  A  soul  has  returned  to  its  Maker,  your  darling 
mother  is  dead." 


113 


LIGnTNINO  FLASHES. 


An  Evening  Reverie, 


Kind  reader,  did  you  ever  steal  away  from 
everybody  and  everything,  and,  seeking 
your  library,  sit  down  in  the  coming  twilight 
before  a  glowing  grate  ?  If  you  have,  you 
will  sympathize  fully  with  me  in  that  sweet 
inertia  that  comes  over  one  as  he  sits  thus 
and  pulls  the  much  abused  but  ever  sooth- 
ing weed,  of  which  his  Satanic  majesty  is 
said  to  have  sown  the  germ.  If  you  have 
never  done  so,  listen,  and  you  may  sit  by 
me.  The  cheerful  tire  awakens  pleasant 
memories,  and  the  fragrant  tobacco  induces 
a  mellowness  of  mind  almost  ecstatic.  When 
the  moon's  soft  beams  fall  beside  you,  as  the 
evening  advances,  as  was  the  case  with  me 
last  niojht,  there  is  little  else  attainable  in 
this  world  worth  wishing  for.  You  may  not 
see  the  pictures  on  the  wall,  but  you  feel 
their  presence.  You  realize  that  Beatrice 
Cenci  regards  you  kindly  as  you  puiF  the 
smoke  rings  upward.  And  though  Wash- 
ington and  his  small  band  of  followers,  who 
are  crossing  the  Delaware — in  a  steel  engrav- 
ing— over  behind  you,  are  invisible  as  you 
gaze  into  the  fire,  you  know  that  they  are 
dividing  their  attention  between  the  guidance 
of  their  frail  craft  on  its  perilous  journey  and 
your  airy  musings.  There  are  many  other 
pictures  adorning  the  walls,  and  you  experi- 
ence that  quiet  satisfaction  inseparable  from 
being  in  delightful  company.  On  your  right 
sit  Washington  Irving  and  his  friends,  and 
on  your  left  Shakspeare  and  liis  contempo- 
raries, both  groups  indulging  in  a  chat,  wiiich 
you  would  give  half  your  life — possibly  that 
half  you  are  done  with — to  have  heard.  The 
busts  of  Burns,  of  iScott,and  Byron  surmount 
the  mantelpiece;  a  pair  of  Rogers'  groups 
are  near  at  hand,  and,  finally,  there  are  those 
wonderful  entertainers,  the  books  on  your 
library  shelves.  And  if  W^ashington  and  his 
followers  are  mute;  if  Beatrice  is  content  to 
entrance  the  eye  without  adding  the  music 
of  her  voice;  if  Irving,  Shakspeare,  and  their 
respective  associates  say  nothing  to  you,  and 


Burns,  Scott  and  Byron  deign  not  to  relax 
their  set  features  for  your  instruction,  what 
recks  it  ?  The  books  will  talk  to  you  as  men 
can  never  speak.  You  sit  within  an  en- 
chanted circle  and  have  only  to  rise,  step 
forward  two  strides,  and,  tnirahilc  dictu, 
you  may  commune  %vith  Charles  Lamb,  with 
Goethe,  Shakspeare,  Plutarch,  Balzac,  or  any 
of  the  others  who  have  contributed  their 
wisdom  foi'  the  benefit  of  mankind,  from 
wise  Confucius  to  quaint,  bewitching  Charles 
Dudley  Warner. 

I  was  sitting  thus  last  evening,  when  I 
heard  a  voice  so  wondrously  modulated  and 
sweet  that  I  liancied  for  the  instant  which  it 
required  for  me  to  emerge  from  my  reverie, 
that  Beatrice  had  surely  spoken,  and  the 
voice  inquired,  "  May  I  come  in  ?  "  Before  I 
could  say  "  Yes,"  this  practical  observation 
followed,  "Why,  John,  you  great  goose, 
why  don't  you  light  the  gas?  It  is  as  dark 
as  a  pocket  here  ; "  saying  which,  my  bonny 
wife  approached  me  and  brushed  back  my 
hair  with  the  same  lingering  tenderness  with 
which  she  fondled  me  ten  good  years  ago, 
when  w^e  were  in  the  heyday  of  our  honey- 
moon. We  are  lovers  still,  Mary  and  I — we 
must  always  be.  Adapted  to  each  other  by 
temperament,  education,  and  general  tenden- 
cies, our  love  has  grown  with  our  years  and 
strenccthened  with  our  strength.  Behold  in 
us  the  happiest  couple  in  Christendom.  Not 
that  we  are  by  any  means  alike ;  oh,  no. 
Mary  is  shrewd,  practical — in  fact  she  is 
common  sense  personified.  She  makes  good 
bargains,  takes  a  wholesome  view  of  life,  and 
does  good  to  all  about  her  as  naturally  and 
easily  as  the  sun  shines  or  the  wind  blows. 
I  am  a  bit  of  a  dreamer ;  I  am  given  to  the 
advocacy  of  ideas  which  I  am  so  often  con- 
vinced are  impracticable  that  I  have  but  lit- 
tle faith  in  my  own  views;  I  am  easily  im- 
posed upon  in  numerous  ways,  and,  except 
at  rare  intervals,  I  go  about  my  business 
feeling,  with  Meredith,  that  life  is  not  alto- 


-r~A 


Still  so  Geistly  O'ku  Me  Stealing." 


"  Memory  oft  Brings  Back  the  Feeling.'' 

A   "Shocking"  Affair. 


AN  EVENING   REVERIE. 


113 


gether  what  we  planned  it  out.  As  yon  may 
judge,  Mary  is  a  perfect  balance  for  me. 
Without  her  I  should  be  as  nothing,  but  to- 
gether we  are  a  steady  going  couple,  who 
admire  each  other's  qualities,  and  fall  more 
and  more  deeply  in  love  as  we  grow  older, 
for  in  spite  of  our  diftering  views  we  sympa- 
thize fully  on  all  matters  of  importance  to  our 
own  and  the  well  being  of  those  near  and 
dear  to  us. 

I  regret  that  I  have  not  time  to  tell  you  all 
about  ourselves,  and  give  an  episode  here 
and  there  in  our  married  life.  Suffice  it  that 
we  were  friends  at  first,  lovers  betimes,  and 
"  married  folk  "  at  last.  I  would  like,  more- 
over, to  tell  you  what  we  were  talking  about 
last  evening,  but  Mary  would  not  approve  of 
it,  and  as  usual  I  yield  to  her  better  judg- 
ment. I  am  so  happy  under  circumstances 
peculiarly  adapted  to  ray  eccentric  though 
not  altogether  sunless  nature,  that  I  would 
communicate  my  thoughts  and  the  pretty 
things  my  wife  and  I  say  to  each  other  to 
the  whole  world.  But  Mary  says  the  world 
would  laugh  at  us,  and  very  likely  she  is 
right,  so  I  shall  spare  you  a  report  of  our 
conversation. 

But  I  may  safely  tell  you  what  was  occu- 
pying my  mind  when  Mary  came  to  sit  by 
me.  I  was  thinking  of  our  early  love ;  of 
how  we  were  associated  together  in  a  pretty 
Massachusetts  village,  and  of  our  increasing 
fondness  for  each  other  as  we  approached 
that  period  which  by  a  polite  fiction  is  called 
years  of  discretion.  She  grew  to  be  delicate 
in  health  as  she  attained  her  eighteenth  year, 
and  fears  were  entertained  that  she  would 
die  of  consumption,  as  her  mother  had  done. 
Her  physician  prescribed  a  change  of  air,  and 
her  father  took  her  abroad.  Our  parting  was 
very  sad,  for  she  was  ill  and  strangely  whim- 
sical. "I  shall  die  in  some  strange  land, 
John,"  she  said,  "  and  shall  never  see  you 
again."  And  then  she  wept  softly,  and  my 
own  eyes  were  not  wholly  dry.  I  had  just 
graduated  at  the  bar,  and  went  to  Boston  to 
practice  my  profession  in  her  absence.  Dur- 
ing the  two  years  which  followed  I  was  mod- 


erately successful,  but  I  must  confess  that  I 
was  not  happy.  Mary's  letters  and  those 
from  her  father  were  not  encouraging,  but  I 
was  young  and  brave  hearted.  So  I  hoped 
for  the  best,  and,  if  sometimes  I  lost  in- 
terest in  my  law  books,  and  my  mind  wan- 
dered to  the  sequestered  village  where  I  had 
met  my  love,  and  I  fell  to  thinking  fondly  of 
green  lanes  and  of  her  who  used  to  be  my 
companion  amid  scenes  of  quiet  loveliness,  I 
came  back  to  myself  shortly  and  resumed  the 
duties  of  my  work-a-day  life.  I  cannot  say 
that  I  thought  of  the  country  with  a  feeling 
of  regret.  I  only  dwelt  on  it  because  it  sug- 
gested the  happiest  hours  of  my  life — my 
three  years  as  a  student  in  Judge  Bascom's 
office.  I  was  a  town  man  by  birth  and  in- 
stinct, and  admired  the  country  something 
after  the  manner  in  which  that  very  funny 
man  admired  the  sea,  who,  after  sailing 
around  Cape  Horn  ejaculated  in  homely 
rhyme : 

"  Oh  !  I  love  the  sea,  as  I've  said  before, 
But  I  love  it  best  when  seen  from  shore." 

Well,  Mary  came  home  at  last  and  we 
were  married.  How  well  I  remember  that 
golden  August  day — the  seventeenth.  She 
had  entirely  recovered  her  health,  and  oh, 
how  beautiful  she  was!  I  remember  that 
she  seemed  to  me  as  an  angel,  and  even  at 
the  altar  my  better  nature  rebelled  at  the 
idea  of  linking  her  pure  life  with  my  imper- 
fect one,  and  I  had  serious  intentions  of  for- 
bidding the  bans.  But  I  was  selfish,  as  all 
men  are,  and,  ignoring  my  own  unworthi- 
ness,  I  permitted  the  ceremony  to  be  consum- 
mated. As  we  emerged  from  the  church, 
followed  by  the  worthy  villagers,  the  birds 
sang  joyously,  and  I  was  very,  very  happy. 
I  felt  that  God  had  indeed  blessed  me 
beyond  my  deserts,  but  I  kept  my  emotions 
to  myself  A  week  later,  deferring  to  my 
whimsical  tendencies,  and  intuitively  fathom- 
ing my  unfitness  for  the  country,  Mary  an- 
nounced one  morning  her  preference  for  the 
town,  and  asked  me  as  a  favor  to  her  that 
we  go  at  once  to  Boston.  Her  father  accom- 
panied us,  but  he  passed  away  after  a  few 


114 


LIGniNING  FLASHES. 


years,  lie  blessed  us  with  liis  dying  breath, 
and  smilingly  went  forth  into  the  great  liere- 
after.  How  the  past  came  back  to  me  last 
night  as  I  sat  dreaming  niv  day  dreams  in 
the  mingled  moon  and  tire  light !  I  was  al- 
most a  poet  then,  and  if  a  diviner  hand  had 
not  swept  the  lyre  to  the  same  purpose,  I 
believe  I  could  have  written  something  beau- 
tiful on  "The  Pleasures  of  Memory." 

"Will  I  let  the  children  come  up?"  in- 
quired Biddy,  from  the  dining-room. 

The  children  finally  come  up.  There  are 
three  of  ihem — John,  nine  years  old  ;  Henry, 
seven,  and  Mamie,  three.  I  object  to  having 
the  gas  lighted  when  Mary  urges  its  ignition. 
Behold  me  victorious  in  the  dimly  lighted 
room.  On  a  low  stool  at  my  side  sits  Mary, 
fairer,  sweeter  than  the  flowers — those  voice- 
less, yet  earnest  and  convincing  preachers. 
On  one  knee  sits  John,  on  the  other  Henry, 
while  Mamie  clings  to  my  neck,  and  nestles 
her  sunny  head  upon  my  shoulder.  Verily  I 
would  do  without  the  gaslight  always,  if 
only  to  have  the  children  sit  so  closely  and 
seem  to  place  themselves  under  my  protec- 
tion without  reserve — to  have  them  look  up 
to  me  with  that  aspect  of  perfect  trust,  which 
never  characterizes  my  children  except  when 
darkness  is  around  us.  Of  course  we  must 
tell  them  stories,  so  Mary  and  I  alternate 
as  the  inventors  of  little  romances,  such  as 
children  like.  She  relates  tales  of  knights 
and  great  achievements,  and  I  tell  them  of 
tlie  grotesque  and  fanciful.  And  how  silent 
the  little  ones  are,  as  Mary  weaves  her  pretty 
tales  of  chivalrous  men  and  deeds !  How 
merrily  they  laugh  when  I  narrate  the  myth- 
ical adventures  of  impossible  boys  and  girls. 
We  are  very  happy,  I  can  tell  you.  Then 
follows  song  after  song,  with  very  perfect 
result,  for  Mary's  voice,  like  her  every  other 
attribute,  is  sweet  and  winning,  and  the  boys 
are  making  good  headway  with  their  music. 
Mamie  and  I  are  the  only  weak  ones  in  our 
home  quintette,  she  being  too  young  to  learn 
the  songs  the  boys  are  taught  at  school,  and 
I,  being  ambitious  to  sing  the  right  words 


to  the  wrong  tune,  without  making  a  discord, 
and  always  failing. 

As  the  evening  drew"  on  we  purposed  to 
close  our  delightful  session  with  "Hold  the 
Fort,"  something  perfectly  familiar  to  all  of 
us,  even  to  Mamie.  The  first  verse  seemed 
to  limp  a  little,  and  I  looked  inquiringly  at 
Mary,  but  her  glance  of  encouragement  re- 
assured me,  and  I  sang  on  right  sturdily 
thenceforward.  It  was  during  the  progress 
of  the  second  stanza  that  we  discovered  the 
cause  of  the  inharmonv — Mamie  was  sintxing 
"Little  Brown  Jug,  You  and  Me."  At  this 
we  laughed  heartily,  and  as  our  voices  died 
away  a  sort  of  blindness  stole  upon  me.  My 
wife's  sweet  face  seemed  to  fade  from  sight, 
then  the  children  began  to  recede  from  view, 
at  last  dissolving  altogether,  and,  starting 
up,  I  stood  alone.  The  fire  was  nearly  dead, 
there  were  no  pictures  on  the  wall,  there  were 
no  copies  of  Shakspeare,  Plutarch,  Goethe — 
nor  of  anybody  except  Coke  and  Blackstone, 
and  other  legal  lights  on  the  single  shelf  above 
the  fireplace.  My  vision  had  passed  away, 
and  again  I  was  an  old  bachelor  lawyer — the 
self-same  gray  old  man  whom  my  brethren 
who  congregate  at  the  court-house  know  so 
well,  and,  no  doubt,  depreciate,  were  the 
truth  known.  I  walked  stiffly  to  the  win- 
dow, for  my  limbs  are  no  longer  young,  and 
looking  out  I  beheld  the  sleeping  city  bathed 
in  radiant  light.  The  cathedral  bells  had 
just  rung  out  the  midnight  hour.  Turning, 
I  marked  that  the  moon's  soft  beams  fell 
across  the  oaken  floor,  as  I  had  seen  thera 
rest  upon  the  richly  tinted  carpet  of  my  li- 
brary, and  a  pain  like  an  unexpected  twinge 
from  an  old  sprain  shook  me,  for  I  knew  that 
the  moonbeams  lighting  my  dingy  room 
rested  also  on  a  grave  in  a  country  church 
yard  not  far  remote.  They  have  rested  there 
through  thirty  years  —  above  my  Mary's 
dust.  John  and  Henry  and  Mamie  —  God 
bless  you  my  dream  children  —  were  never 
born,  but  since  God  willed  it  so,  I  thank 
Him  as  I  brush  away  an  old  man's  foolish 
tears. 


What  Came  of  beiiif/  Ca 

It  was  the  day  before  Christmas,  and  all 
day  long  the  snow  had  been  falling,  complete- 
ly filling  the  air  with  its  soft  density,  gaining 
upon  the  ground  with  marvelous  rapidity.  It 
was  a  real  old-fashioned  snow-storm.  As 
the  night  came  on  the  wind  arose,  piling  high 
the  light  snow,  making  huge  drifts  through 
the  roads  and  fields  of  the  quiet  country 
village  of  N.  Notwithstanding  the  severity 
of  the  storm,  Farmer  Osborne  had  been  to 
the  railroad  station  and  brought  his  daughter 
home,  that  young  lady  having  arrived  on  the 
late  afternoon  train  to  spend  Christmas  with 
her  parents.  And  as  the  Osborne  family  are 
now  all  at  home,  and  seated  around  their 
cheerful  tea-table  on  this  stormy  Christmas 
Eve,  let  us  glance  a  moment  at  its  members, 
in  one  of  which  you  will  certainly  be  inter- 
ested, she  beincc  with  us  a  member  of  that 
numerous  and  happy  family  who  with  grati- 
tude recoGcnize  their  indebtedness  to  Prof 
Morse  for  the  pleasant  and  interesting,  if  not 
always  lucrative,  employment  in  which  we 
are  engaged. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Osborne  are  two  of  the  best 
people  in  the  world ;  very  intelligent  and 
pleasing,  both  in  manner  and  person.  They 
have  three  children,  two  are  under  ten  years 
of  aire,  and  of  whom  we  shall  not  have 
further  occasion  to  speak  in  this  sketch. 
The  other  is  Miss  Fannie  Osborne,  who,  as 
we  have  previously  intimated,  has  just  re- 
turned home,  after  an  absence  of  three 
months.  Miss  Fannie  was  at  this  time  eigh- 
teen years  old,  very  pretty,  and  as  intellectual 
and  good  as  she  was  handsome.  She  had 
lovely  brown  eyes,  always  dressed  tastefully 
and  stylishly,  and  would  be  noticeable  at  all 
times,  even  in  the  busy  thoroughfare  of  a 
city.  She  had  been  in  the  telegraph  busi- 
ness nearly  two  years,  although  she  had  not 
been  manager  of  her  own  office  until  quite 
recently,  but,  like  hundreds  of  ambitious 
young  operators  scattered  through  our  land, 
had  served  long  and  faithfully  as  a  substitute, 
waiting  patiently  for  the  first  permanent  po- 


iigJit  in  a  Snoiv-stortn, 

sition  that  should  ofler  itself,  practicing 
meanwhile  with  the  greatest  assiduitv,  en- 
deavoring  to  make  herself  competent  to  fill 
any  jjosition  open  to  ladies.  And  she  had 
not  labored  in  vain,  having  at  length  been 
appointed  to  fill  a  vacancy  at  M.,  a  large  and 
growing  town  between  N.  Y.  and  B.,  where 
the  business  required  a  fair  sound  operator. 
I  use  the  latter  expression  in  the  sense  of 
eligibility,  not  of  beauty. 

Yery  proud  indeed  were  Mr.  Osborne  and 
his  good  Avife  of  their  handsome  daughter, 
as  she  sat  in  her  accustomed  seat  at  the 
table,  praising  mother's  light  biscuit  and 
delicious  butter,  giving  ludicrous  descriptions 
of  same  of  the  many  different  boarding 
places  she  had  been  obliged  to  patronize 
while  substituting,  and  comparing  the  edibles 
she  had  lived  and  thrived  upon  with  those  of 
her  own  dear  home.  So  pleasant  did  every- 
thing seem  inside  that  the  furious  storm  out- 
side was  nearly  forgotten,  when  all  were 
suddenly  startled  by  a  firm  knock  upon  the 
door.  Fanny  being  nearest,  and  not  very 
timid,  quickly  threw  open  the  door  and  be- 
held standing  in  the  doorway  Avhat  at  first 
appeared  to  be  a  snow  man  ;  but  a  pleasant, 
frank  voice  proceeded  therefrom  asking  for 
shelter  at  once  dispelled  that  illusion,  and 
the  stranger  was  invited  to  walk  in. 

A  removal  of  outer  garments  soon  brought 
to  light  a  fine  looking,  stylishly  dressed  young 
man,  whose  quiet  ease  and  self-possession, 
together  with  his  polite  manner,  proclaimed 
him  at  once  a  gentleman.  He  introduced 
himself  as  Fred  Thorne,  and  explained  to 
them  the  cause  of  his  sudden  advent,  and,  he 
feared,  intrusion,  into  their  quiet  home. 
Having  accepted  an  invitation  to  spend 
Christmas  with  some  relatives  who  reside 
several  miles  from  N.,  he  had  started  from 
the  city  without  a  thought  of  Avhat  a  storm 
he  was  to  encounter  fifty  miles  away.  Ar- 
rivinor  at  the  N.  station  he  found  there  was 
no  one  there  to  receive  him,  as  he  Avas  not 
expected  in  such  a  storm,  and,  as  he  could 


IIG 


LIOniNING  FLASHES. 


not  rctuni  tliat  niglit,  he  tlut-'Klod  to  try  liis 
l^edestiian  powers,  but  limliiig  the  iliil'ts 
numerous  and  deep,  he  soon  became  aware 
of  tlie  magnitude  of  liis  undertaking,  and 
after  a  short  trial  decided  to  seek  shelter  at 
the  next  house  that  should  jjresent  itself, 
which  accounted  for  his  appearance  there. 
Mr.  Osborne  assured  him  in  his  hearty  man- 
ner that  he  was  welcome  to  spend  the  night 
there,  and  also  to  remain  until  the  storm 
should  abate.  lie  then  introduced  him  to 
the  members  of  his  family,  and  insisted  upon 
Lim  taking  tea  with  them.  After  tea  they 
all  adjourned  to  the  pleasant  sitting  room. 
In  the  course  of  a  few  moments' conversation, 
our  friend  Fred  acquainted  them  with  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  telegraph  operator,  occu- 
pying the  position  of  day  press  operator  at 
B.  This  to  Miss  Fannie's  great  delight,  for 
she  had  never  been  acquainted  with  a  main 
office  operator,  and  here  was  a  real  live  one 
brought  directly  in  her  path.  Mrs.  Osborne 
had  casually  remarked  that  Fannie,  too,  was 
an  operator,  or,  rather,  was  learning  to  be 
one,  and,  of  course,  nothing  more  was  need- 
ed to  make  our  young  friends  perfectly  at 
ease. 

What  a  host  of  questions  Fannie  had  to 
ask !  And  how  much  Fred  had  to  relate  ! 
What  other  occupation  on  this  globe  of  ours 
affords  such  a  fund  of  interesting  facts  for 
conversation  as  telegraphy  ?  Fred  was 
personally  acquainted  with  many  nice  opera- 
tors, and  as  he  was  well  educated,  and  had 
a  pleasing  address,  he  was  listened  to  with 
great  interest  by  the  whole  family,  and 
especially  by  the  operator  of  the  family.  lie 
spoke  of  that  most  accomplished  of  our 
American  operators,  who  has  worked  his 
May  high  \\\y  in  literary  circles,  and  whose 
past  record  as  champion  receiver  has  never 
been  equaled,  and  not  forgetting  to  render 
the  well  deserved  praise  due  to  that  "  depart- 
ed one,"  whose  exceedingly  rapid  and  accu- 
rate transmission  is  at  once  the  admiration 
and  wonder  of  the  entire  telegraphic  fraterni- 
ty ;  he  having  transmitted,  witli  "  Mc  "  re- 
ceiving,  2,500  words    in    sixty   minutes,    or 


an  average  of  over  forty-one  words  i)er  min- 
ute for  one  whole  hour,  this  being  accom- 
])lished  without  a  break  or  a  mistake  on 
the  ])art  of  either  sender  or  receiver. 

lie  told  them  of  an  acquaintance  of  his 
whom  nothing  seemed  to  disconcert.  IIow 
one  niglit  a  gentleman  with  an  accordeon 
caused  all  the  other  operators  to  cease  from 
receiving,  except  this  one,  Avho  was  receiving 
first  press.  lie  only  smiled,  and  continued 
his  work  even  when  the  accordeon  was 
brought  near  to  liim  with  the  express  purpose 
of  compelling  liim  to  break.  Those  Avho 
have  tried  it  can  judge  how  good  an  opera- 
tor one  must  be  to  do  this.  At  another  time 
this  same  operator  was  in  a  small  office  one 
afternoon  with  several  ladies  and  a  gentleman 
companion,  all  operators.  Presently  the 
office  was  called,  and  the  lady  manager  not 
desiring  to  exhibit  her  powers  before  so  many, 
suggested  that  one  of  the  gents  should  re- 
ceive the  prospective  message,  at  the  same 
time  answering  the  call  and  closing  the  key. 
After  considerable  delay  the  situation  was 
accepted  by  this  same  gentleman.  All  this 
time  the  message,  which  proved  to  be  a  long 
railroad  dispatch,  had  been  coming  at  a  good 
speed.  After  three  vain  attempts  to  make  a 
commencement,  in  which  he  was  prevented 
by  the  roguishness  of  the  other  gentleman, 
who  siezed  from  him  three  blanks  in  succes- 
sion, lie  finally  made  a  start  just  as  the 
sender  was  finishing.  To  the  great  suri)rise 
of  all  present  a  prompt  "  O  K  "  was  given, 
and  our  friend  copied  down  the  long  message, 
which  he  had  secured  in  his  head,  amid  all 
the  confusion  incident  to  such  an  occasion. 

Perhaps  you  can  imagine  the  pleasant 
excitement  that  lighted  Miss  Fannie's  fine 
eyes,  as  she  heard  these  and  many  more 
stories  of  first-class  operators,  and  when  the 
hour  of  retiring  arrived,  all  expressed  them- 
selves remarkably  well  pleased  with  the 
evening's  entertainment.  The  next  morning 
was  bright  and  pleasant,  and  Mr.  Thorne, 
after  thanking  his  kind  host  and  hostess  for 
their  hospitality,  bade  them  all  adieu.  He 
had  not  proceeded  far  on  his  journey  when 


A  LUDICROUS  MISTAKE. 


117 


the  thought  flashed  upon  his  mmd  that  he 
had  neglected  to  inquire  of  Miss  Fannie  at 
■what  office  she  was  pursuing  her  studies, 
which  proved  a  most  dci)ressing  thought, 
even  preventing  his  enjoying  the  rest  of  his 
trip.  Three  days  later  found  him  at  work 
again,  and  as  he  copied  "The  latest  from 
Europe,"  "All  about  the  Electoral  Votes," 
etc.,  his  mind  continually  reverted  to  that 
pleasant  Christmas  Eve,  and  innumerable 
were  the  schemes  devised  for  discovering 
Miss  Fannie's  office.  On  this  morning  the 
press  news  was  light,  and  he  was  called  upon 
to  assist  in  getting  off  some  of  the  way  busi- 
ness. Accordingly  he  sat  down  at  one  of 
the  wires  between  N.  Y.  and  B.  He  was 
feeling  very  light-fingered,  and  was  just  in 
the  mood  to  "  salt "  everybody  he  had  deal- 
ings with.  On  the  table  before  him  lay  sev- 
eral messages  for  M.  He  at  once  raised 
the  station,  and  proceeded  to  "salt"  that 
countryman,  or  woman,  whichever  it  might 
be.  He  rattled  quickly  through  the  mes- 
sages, and,  much  to  his  surprise,  was  not 
broken  once.  When  he  had  finished,  and 
his  sig.  "  F,"  had  been  given,  the  quick  re- 
sponse came  "  O.  K."  "FO.,"  with  the 
added  remark,  "  That's  the  kind  of  writing  I 
like  to  receive,  Mr.  T."  "  What !  you  don't 
mean  to  say  you  received  those  messages  by 
sound,  do  you  ?  And  how  did  you  know  my 
name  was  Mr    T.?"  was  Fred's  reply.     A 


merry  laugh  came  rippling  over  the  wire 
with  the  answer.  "  Oh,  certainly,  I  received 
them  by  sound.  And  can  it  be  possible  that 
you  have  forgotten  Christmas  Eve,  and  that 
dreadful,  or  rather  delightful  snow-storm  so 
quickly?"  Fred  nearly  jumped  from  his 
chair  at  the  reply,  much  to  the  wonder  and 
merriment  of  the  operators  who  chanced  to 
see  him.  A  few  more  remarks  on  either  side 
sufficed  to  establish  satisfactorily  the  identity 
of  both ;  Fred  remarking  that  his  surprise 
was  greater  from  the  fact  that  he  understood 
she  was  only  a  pupil,  when  she  i-eally  proved 
to  be  a  fine  operator.  It  was  surprising  how 
many  times  during  that  and  succeeding  days, 
our  pressman  found  time  to  run  over  to  that 
way  wire,  and  chat  a  few  minutes  with 
FO.  And  again  it  was  equally  surpris- 
ing how  often  the  trains  to  and  from  M. 
found  him  therein.  And  since  his  last  visit 
we  have  a  very  suggestive  fact  to  record, 
viz.:  That  Miss  Fannie  now  wears  a  new  and 
beautiful  pearl  finger  ring,  of  which  she  seems 
to  be  very  proud.  Our  young  friends  are 
apparently  as  happy  as  the  days  are  long. 
But  we  are  here  compelled  to  leave  them  to 
await  the  development  of  future  facts.  In 
the  meantime,  we  would  advise  "  subs  "  gen- 
erally to  watch  "  M  "  office  vigilantly,  for  at 
no  distant  day,  one  of  them  may  obtain  a 
pleasant  situation,  should  their  application 
be  presented  in  season. 


One  of  the  Augusta  men  asked  a  lady  to  subscribe 
to  The  Opekator.  "  No !  "  she  replied.  "  There 
is  Duly  one  operator  I  want.  If  I  can't  get  him  I 
don't  want  any ! " 


The  other  day  some  of  the  boys  induced  a  young 
man  from  Fliut  Creek  to  take  hold  of  the  handles 
of  a  galvanic  battery.  As  it  puckered  him  up  he 
roared  :  "  Jiminy  Criminy,  let  up !  Who  ever  heard 
of  a  thing  that  could  make  you  taste  green  per- 
simmons with  your  hands  before  ? 


At  Clapham  Junction,  near  London,  no  less  than 
952  trains  pass  daily,  their  rate  of  succession,  dur- 
ing the  busiest  part  of  the  day,  being  seventy-five 
trains  per  hour,  or  one  every  forty-eight  seconds. 


At  this  point  there  are  thirteen  lines  of  railway, 
and  one  alone  has  thirty-five  "points"  or  switches, 
with  thirty  interlocking  signals,  all  controlled  from 


a  single  "  box.' 


The  message  was  written  in  Spanish,  and  although 
great  pains  had  evidently  been  taken  with  it,  still 
some  parts  were  rather  obscure.  The  lady  requested 
the  boy  to  take  it  back  and  have  it  made  clearer. 
When  it  was  returned  it  was  printed  in  letters  al- 
most half  an  inch  high  and  a  memorandum  on  one 
corner  to  this  efi"ect :  "  I  hope  it  is  now  as  clear  as 
Mudd"  and  it  was.  If  it  is  one  of  the  characteris- 
tics of  great  men  to  make  blunders,  should  we  not 
logically  conclude  that  there  are  a  great  many  in- 
cipient giants  in  the  telegraph  business  ? 


118 


LIGHTNINO  FLASHES. 


Into    the    Jaws    of   Death, 

A  TELEGRAPH  OPERATOR'S  STORY. 


"Want  a  yarn,  ch?"  said  my  fricml,  Erlianlt,  as 
he  lipped  his  chair  back  and  deposited  his  number 
sixes  upon  my  operating  table.  "  Well,  I  am  afraid 
you  have  applied  at  the  wrong  window,  young  man. 
There  never  was  a  much  worse  hand  at  telling 
stories.  I  have  had  in  my  life  but  one  experience 
which  was  at  all  remarkable,  and  I  think  I  have 
told  you  of  that." 

"  Your  adventure  with  the  highwaymen  in  the 
depot  here?  No,  j'ou  have  never  told  me  about  it. 
I  have  heard  the  station  agent  speak  of  the  afiFair 
once,  but  that  is  all.    Tell  me  the  whole  story." 

Erhardt  was  an  ex-operator  and  the  cashier  of  the 
n —  bank,  a  solid,  substantial  institution,  the  re- 
pository of  the  savings  of  the  farmers  for  miles 
around,  and  whicii,  in  its  waj',  transacted  more 
business  than  many  of  its  more  pretentious  city 
prototypes. 

He  was  waiting  at  the  depot  to  meet  a  friend  ex- 
pected on  the  milk  train,  which,  as  usual,  was  a 
trifle  over  four  hours  late.  lie  had  expressed  a 
proper  amount  of  disgust  on  the  receipt  of  this  in- 
formation, and  finally  took  a  chair  in  my  office  to 
Avait.  It  was  a  cold,  blustering  night;  the  wind 
howled  without,  and  my  fire  (of  old  railroad  ties) 
roared  and  leaped  in  its  cast-iron  prison. 

"  If  I  must  wait  here  for  that  confounded  slow 
coach,  I  might  as  well  spend  the  time  in  that  way 
as  aDy.  I  like  to  hear  myself  talk  pretty  well." 
And  he  settled  himself  in  his  chair  and  lighted  a 
cigar. 

"It was  some  seven  or  eight  years  ago,  1867,  I 
think,  that  I  was  sent  to  open  the  office  here.  I 
remember  a  little  interview  I  had  with  the  superin- 
tendent just  before  I  started.  I  was  a  little  wild  in 
those  days,  and  had  just  returned  from  a  week's 
fun. 

"'Erhardt,'  he  said,  'I  will  give  you  just  one 
more  chance.  I  am  going  to  send  you  down  to 
U — .  It  you  behave  yourself  there,  and  show 
that  you  have  any  of  the  true  stuff  in  you,  I  will 
give  you  a  better  position  in  time.  If  not,  I  shall 
wash  my  hands  of  you,  and  you  will  receive  no 
more  employment  from  this  company.' 

"  He  looked  after  me  somewhat  regretfully,  I  im- 
agined, as  I  went  out.  I  think  he  was  inclined  to 
like  me,  but  my  conduct  nuido  it  impossible  for 
him  to  show  me  much  favor. 

"  Well,  I  came  down  here  and  opened  this  office. 
Telegraphing  was  more  of  a  curiosity  then  than  it  is 
now,  and  I  found  myself  regarded  as  a  sort  of 
lion  by  the  people  here.  I  was  then  a  first-classer, 
and  could  take  my  forty  words  a  minute  as  easily  as 


any  one.  Had  it  not  been  for  my  frisky  habits  I 
would  probably  at  that  time  have  graced  some  large 
office. 

I  now  tried  hard  to  be  steady  and  sober,  and 
really  succeeded  very  well.  I  struck  up  an  acquaint- 
ance with  the  station  agent  here,  who  was  a  steady, 
thorough-going  young  fellow  and  an  excellent 
companion.  He  was  greatly  taken  with  the  mys- 
teries of  telegraphy.  Very  much  to  his  delight,  I 
offered  to  teach  him,  and  had  soon  transformed  liiiu 
into  a  very  tolerable  plug.  He  read  very  well — 
much  better  than  he  could  write.  I  very  quickly 
saw  that  Mason  had  in  him  the  material  lor  an  ex- 
cellent operator.  He  had  a  keen  sense  of  humor, 
and  we  were  eternally  playing  jokes  on  each  other, 
which  were  always  taken  in  good  part. 

"  About  fifty  miles  further  down  the  road  was  a 
small  office  in  charge  of  a  Miss  Annie  L — .  I  intro- 
duced Mason  to  her  over  the  wire,  and  they  prac- 
ticed together  a  great  deal.  Mason  was  a  little  the 
best  receiver,  and  somehow  managed  to  spend  very 
much  of  his  time  retailing  to  her  that  ineffable 
nonsense  which  is  so  interesting  to  the  partici- 
pants, and  such  idiotic  bosh  to  outsiders. 

"  I  looked  upon  all  this  with  considerable  amuse- 
ment, not,  perhaps,  unmixed  with  a  spice  of  envy. 
They  took  so  much  pleasure  in  conversing  with 
each  other  that  I  felt  called  upon  to  interfere.  But 
how? 

"  One  day  I  fell  into  a  brown  study— determined 
to  do  somethinfj.  The  result  of  my  cogitations  was 
that  I  rummaged  in  my  '  local '  closet  and  produced 
an  old  antiquated  Morse  key  which  I  had  brought 
to  ll_  with  me,  thinking,  perhaps,  it  might  be  of 
use.  This  I  proceeded  to  fix  up  in  a  corner  under 
my  table,  connecting  it  to  the  main  line  precisely  as 
my  other  key  was  connected.  My  table  stood 
against  the  wall,  directly  under  a  window,  and  it 
was  so  dark  underneath  that  there  was  absolutelj' 
no  danger  of  discovery.  Then,  at  odd  times,  when 
Mason  was  not  around,  I  practiced  sending  with  my 
foot.  I  found  the  process  of  writing  in  that  manner 
not  half  so  difficult  as  one  would  suppose.  I  had 
bent  the  circuit  closer  so  that  I  could  move  it  easily, 
and  the  rest  was  merely  a  matter  of  practice.  I 
persevered  until  I  grew  quite  proficient  in  this  novel 
method  of  transmission.  My  foot-writing,  so  to 
speak,  sounded  remarkably  like  Miss  L— 's  style  ! 

"  It  was  not  more  than  a  day  or  two  after  I  had 
decided  that  my  foot  was  sufficiently  versed  in  the 
new  art  to  commence  business,  that  an  opportunity 
presented  itself  It  was  after  supper.  The  last 
train  but  one  had  passed.    There  were  in  those 


INTO  TEE  JAWS  OF  DEATH. 


119 


days  very  few  passengers  by  the  milk  train,  and  H — 
was  not  a  milk  station,  so  Mason  did  not  wait  for 
it.    He  slammed  his  ticket  window  down,  shut  up 
his  safe,  and  then  came  to  my  desk,  leaned  over, 
saw  that  the  wire  was  quiet,  opened  the  key,  and 
commenced  calling  '  Ax,  Ax,  Ax — M.'  Her  private 
call.    Now  was  my  chance ! 
"  '  I,  T,  Ax,'  answered  my  pedal  extremity. 
"  '  G.  E.    Isn't  it  a  beautiful  evening  ?— M.' 
'' '  Good  eve.    Yes,  delightful.    I    am  going  to 
take  a  walk  after  I  have  closed  up  the  office. — Ax,'  I 
answered. 

"  '  What  are  you  doing  this  evening  ?— M.' 
"  '  I  have  just  finished  my  book,  and  have  noth- 
ing to  do  until  I  close. — Ax.' 

"  It  must  be  remembered  that  my  mishievous  foot 
took  the  part  of  '  Ax '  in  this  conversation. 

"  '  Good.'  (Draws  up  a  chair.)  '  Then  we  will 
have  a  little  chat.  What  have  you  been  reading  to- 
day?—M.' 

" '  The  Moonstone.  Do  you  know,  I  believe  I 
have  the  gift  of  second  sight !  I  fancy  I  see  you. 
Yes,  I  can  see  you  !  You  are  leaning  upon  a  table ; 
now  3'ou  have  arisen.  You  have  on  a  blue  suit, 
with  a  black  necktie,  and  gold  watch  chain.  You 
had  a  straw  hat  on  j^our  head,  but  have  just  taken  it 
off.' 

"  At  these  details,  which  were,  of  course,  exactly 
coiTect,  Mason's  face  assumed  a  look  of  extreme 
astonishment,  mouth  and  eyes  wide  open,  resembling 
nothing  so  much  as  an  exaggerated  exclamation 
point. 

"  '  Nowyou  have  taken  out  your  handkerchief  and 
wiped  your  forehead.  Your  personal  appearance 
would  be  much  improved  by  closing  your  mouth.' 

"  Mason  shut  it  with  a  snap,  then  tried  to  say 
something  and  failed. 

"'Yes,  that  is  better.  If  you  only  would  not 
stare  so  — ' 

"  Mason  siezed  his  hat  and  dashed  out  of  the 
office  as  if  the  evil  one  were  after  him,  not  even 
bidding  me  good  night. 

"  I  laid  back  in  my  chair  and  laughed  until  I 
was  weak.  My  attention  was  attracted  to  the 
sounder  by  hearing  '  R  '  (the  largest  city  on  the  line, 
thirty  miles  above  H— ),  calling  furiously,  I  an- 
swered and  was  rewarded  by — 

" '  I  wish  to  Heaven  you  would  stop  that  nonsense 
and  attend  to  business.    Ahr,  21.— R. 

♦  To  J.  R.  C— ,  Pres.  H—  Bank:  ' 

'The  bullion  has  arrived.  Do  you  wish  it  sent 
by  milk  train  to-night  ?  I  shall  not  send  it  unless  I 
receive  direct  orders  at  once.  Wm.  K — , 

'  25  paid,  95.  Cashier  R—  Bank.' 

"  I  copied  the  message,  inclosed  it  in  an  envelope, 


directed  it,  and  called  the  freight-house  porter  who 
was  in  the  outer  room.  . 

" '  Be  sure  and  get  an  answer,  William,'  I  said. 

" '  Faith,  I  will,'  he  replied. 

"  I  followed  him  to  the  door.  The  moon  had 
gone  down,  and  it  had  grown  very  dark.  The 
station  was  about  half  a  mile  from  the  village,  and 
I  could  just  see  the  lights  of  the  nearest  house  nearly 
that  distance  away.  It  was  not  built  up  then  as  it 
is  now.  The  situation  was  certainly  a  very  lone- 
some one,  but  I  did  not  feel  at  all  afraid  though  now 
alone  in  the  station. 

"  In  about  half  an  hour  William  returned. 

"  '  Rather  a  lonely  walk,  William,'  I  said. 

" '  Yis,  sur,'  he  answered.  '  I  came  back  across 
the  fields  and  so  shortened  it.' 

"  Which,  in  all  human  probability,  saved  his  life- 

"  I  tore  the  envelope  containing  the  answer  open 
and  read  it. 

" '  You  can  go  home  now,  William,'  I  said.  The 
message  read : 

'  To  Wm.  K— ,  Cashier  R—  Bank  : 

'  No ;  do  not  send  the  bullion  to-night.  I  will 
give  you  further  orders  to-morrow  as  to  its  disposi- 
tion. J.  R.  C— ,  Pres.' 

"  I  had  checked  the  message,  and,  standing  by  the 
table,  had  stretched  out  my  hand  to  the  key  to  call 
'  R,'  when  an  arm  was  roughly  thrown  around  me, 
pinning  my  hands  to  my  sides,  and  I  felt  the 
pressure  of  cold  steel  on  my  temple. 

"  '  Move,  shout,  or  speak  but  a  single  word  and  I 
will  blow  your  brains  out,'  said  a  harsh,  determined 
voice  in  a  low  tone. 

"  I  am  as  brave,  perhaps,  as  most  men,  yet  I  con- 
fess I  was  thoroughly  frightened — scared  almost  to 
death. 

"  I  could  hear  the  muffled  tramp  of  men  in  the 
room.  One  of  them  blew  out  my  kerozene  lamp, 
and  turned  a  dark  lantern  so  that  it  shone  in  my 
eyes  and  almost  blinded  me.  Another  man,  low  in 
statue,  but  short  and  thick  set,  with  a  long  beard, 
and  a  mask  over  the  upper  part  of  his  face,  placed 
himself  directly  in  front  of  me  and  produced  a  pair 
of  handcuffs  which  he  secured  upon  my  wrists. 
My  arms  were  then  released  by  the  man  who  had 
held  them.  He  with  the  beard,  who  seemed  to  be 
the  leader  of  the  gang,  then,  by  the  light  of  the 
lantern,  hunted  over  the  table  until  he  found  the 
message,  which  he  read  and  carefully  placed  in  his 
breast  pocket. 

" '  You  are  sure  this  message  has  not  been  sent  ? ' 
he  said,  addressing  another  of  the  gang. 

" '  I  know  it  has  not,'  was  the  answer.    '  He  was 
just  getting  ready  to  send  it  when  we  entered.' 

"'Very  good.    Now,'  he  said,  turning  to  me,  *I 
want  you  to  understand  that  we  are  going  to  secure 


120 


LIOnTNINO  FLASHES. 


the  treiisure  wliich  was  to  Lave  been  sent  down 
from  K—  to-night,  and  j'ou  will  help  us.  If  you 
have  any  objections  this  little  persuader  will  silence 
them.'  As  he  spoke  he  tai)ped  the  butt  ol  a 
revolver  which  projected  from  his  pocket. 

"  He  took  up  a  pencil  and  proceeded  to  write  a 
message  on  a  soft  sheet.  While  he  was  thus  em- 
ployed I  took  occasion  to  glance  around.  There 
were  eight  men  in  the  room,  all  of  whom  wore 
masks  similar  to  that  worn  by  their  leader.  I  could 
just  make  out  their  forms  in  the  dim  light.  A  hand 
dropped  upon  my  shoulder  showed  me  that  even 
the  turning  of  my  head  had  been  observed. 

"  '  Tliere,'  the  leader  said,  *  you  will  send  that  in- 
stead of  the  other  message.' 

"  lie  held  the  sheet  up  before  me.    It  read : 

'  To  Wm.  K— ,  CAsHiEn  R—  Bank  : 
'Yes,  send  the  bullion  by  the  milk  train  to-night 
without  fail.    My  cashier  with  a  guard  will  be  at 
the  station  to  receive  it.  J.  R.  C— ,  Pres.' 

"  I  looked  down  at  my  manacled  wrists.  The 
irons  were  heavy,  and  the  chain  connecting  the  two 
rings  not  more  than  three  inches  long. 

"  '  I  can't  send  it  with  these  on,'  I  muttered. 

" '  You  must ! '  said  the  chief,  grimly. 

"  I  meekly  resolved  to  try.  Taking  up  a  pencil 
I  managed  to  count  the  words  and  scrawl  the  check 
oa  the  racfisage  with  some  difficulty.  I  was  going 
to  remark,  from  force  of  habit,  that  it  should 
be  written  on  a  message  blank  under  the  conditions, 
but  bethought  myself  in  time. 

"  '  Stoj) — what  is  that  ?  *  said  the  chief,  pointing  to 
the  check. 

"  '  The  number  of  words  and  the  amount  paid,'  I 
answered. 

" '  Is  this  necessary  ? '  he  asked  of  the  man  to 
whom  he  had  spoken  before. 

"  *  Yes,  sir.  It  is  all  right.  They  call  it  the  check, 
and  put  it  on  every  message.' 

" '  Very  well  then,  go  ahead.  This  man  is  an 
operator;  he  will  watch  j'ou  closely,  and  at  the 
first  sign  of  treachery  I  will  put  a  bullet  through 
your  head.  Smith,  stand  out  of  range,  or  you  may 
get  a  taste  of  it,itoo.' 

"  I  sat  down  at  the  table — he  pushing  the  chair 
closer.  Opening  the  key  I  commenced  calling  '  R.' 
I  again  felt  the  cold  barrel  of  the  revolver  on  my 
forehead,  and  it  made  me  so  nervous  that  I  could 
hardly  manipulate  the  key.    '  R '  answered. 

" '  That  is  good,'  said  the  man  addressed  as 
Smith,  who  was  the  operator. 

"  ♦  Send  slow.  I  can't  read  fast  writing,'  he  added. 
I  proceeded  very  slowly,  and  Smith  pronounced 
each  word  as  I  made  it.  The  leader  glanced  alter- 
nately at  Smith  and  myself  uneasily.    It  was  evi- 


dent that  this  was  the  crisis  of  their  bold  conspiracy. 
'  R '  broke  me  in  the  middle  of  the  message,  wanting 
to  know  why  the  deuce  I  sent  so  slowly.  I  closed 
the  key  and  took  my  hand  away  nervously. 
"  '  What  did  he  say,'  demanded  the  leader, 
'"lie  wanted  to  know  why  I  did  not  send  faster,' 
I  said. 

"  '  Tell  him  you  have  a  sore  finger,'  said  Smith.  I 
spelt  this  lie  out  slowly,  Smith  reading  it  aloud, 
then  went  on  and  finished  the  message.  'R'  gave 
a  sharp  and  distinct  '  O  K,'  which  the  renegade 
operator  read  aloud.  The  leader  gave  a  sigh  of 
relief,  which  I  promptly  echoed  as  he  removed  the 
pistol  barrel  fi;om  my  head.  He  then  unlocked  one 
of  the  liandcuffs,  removed  it,  placed  my  hands  be- 
hind my  back  and  reclasped  the  ring  around  my 
wrist,  thus  rendering  me  perfectly  helpless. 

"  There  was  nothing  to  be  done  now  except  to 
wait.  The  men  disposed  themselves  on  the  chairs 
around  the  room,  the  leader  still  guarding  me, 
revolver  in  hand. 

"  As  I  thought  over  the  events  of  the  last  half 
hour  I  was  filled  with  rage  at  the  dastardly  deed  I 
had  been  compelled  to  commit.  This  money,  which 
would  now  fall  into  the  hands  of  these  miscreants, 
was  the  property  of  honest  farmers,  widows,  and 
orphans.  And  I  had  assisted  to  rob  them  !  Better 
far  to  have  sacrificed  my  life,  If  unharmed,  how 
could  I  ever  hold  up  my  head  again?  Oh,  that  I 
liad  refused  to  be  their  tool  I  Was  there  no  way  (o 
undo  w^hat  I  had  done  ? 

"  Stop !  I'he  key  umler  the  tcible  !  Why  had  I  not 
thought  of  it  before  ?  I  opened  it  with  my  foot  and 
made  a  few  dots. 

" '  What  is  that  ? '  said  the  leader. 

" '  Only  some  one  practicing,'  I  answered,  readily. 
He  looked  at  Smith,  who  nodded. 

"  I  called  '  R '  rapidly. 

"' What  did  he  say  then?' 

" '  Pacticing  the  letter  '  C,'  sir,'  I  answered,  glibly. 
'  Do  you  wish  me  to  read  aloud  all  that  passes  over 
the  wire?' 

"  '  No,  it  is  not  necessary,'  said  the  chief. 

"  '  I  can  read  most  of  it,'  said  Smith,  giving  me 
a  penetrative  glance. 

"  I  had  my  own  reasons  for  doubting  this  state- 
ment. 'R' answered.  I  said,  writing  as  rapidly  as 
I  could  under  the  circumstances ; 

"  '  Has  that  message  been  delivered  yet  ? ' 

" '  Yes — long  ago.' 

" '  Then  go  after  it  and  stop  it.  That  hxdlion  must 
not  he  sent  to-night? 

"  His  key  opened  and  remained  so  for  nearly  five 
minutes  ;  then  it  closed,  and  he  said  : 

*' '  All  right— the  bullion  will  not  go.  What  is  the 
matter?' 


INTO   THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH. 


121 


"'The  matter  is  that  this  office  is  full  of  armed 
highwaymen.  I  was  forced  to  send  that  message 
with  a  loaded  revolver  at  my  forehead.' 

" '  Good  Heavens !    AVait  a  minute.' 

"  I  turned  and  met  the  eye  of  the  robber  chief.  I 
could  not  help  smiling  sarcasticall3\ 

"  He  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant. 

"  '  By  G — d,'  he  said,  '  if  you  have  played  us  any 
trick,  young  fellow,  you  will  pay  for  it  with  your 
life.' 

"  *  He  has  not  said  a  word,'  remarked  Smith. 

"  '  It  is  well  for  him,'  said  the  leader.  '  If  that  bul- 
lion arrives  all  right  you  will  be  released  uninjured. 
If  it  fails  to  come,  or  if  there  is  a  sign  of  treachery, 
your  corpse  will  be  found  on  the  floor  to-morrow 
morning  with  your  brains  spattered  on  that  wail.' 
I  shudered  at  this  picture,  which  was  beginning  to 
loom  up  as  a  black  reality  before  me. 

" '  The  chief  of  police  is  here,'  ticked  out  [the 
sounder,  'and  wants  to  know  how  you  are  sit- 
uated.' 

" '  My  hands  are  handcuffed  behind  me,  and  a 
man  sits  at  my  side  with  a  loaded  and  cocked  re- 
volver,' I  answered. 

" '  Thunder !    Then  how  can  you  send  ?  ' 

"  '  I  am  sending  with  my  foot  on  a  concealed  key 
under  the  table,  which  was  rigged  up  to  play  a  joke 
on  Mason.' 

" '  What  can  be  done  to  save  you? ' 

" '  Nothing ;  but  capture  these  robbers  if  possible. 
When  does  the  train  leave  ? ' 

"  '  In  ten  minutes.' 

" '  Then  hold  it.  There  are  eight  heavily  armed 
burglars  here.  Better  have  twenty-five  or  thirty 
well  armed  men  on  the  train.  Let  it  stop  just 
above,  on  the  curve,  and  have  them  walk  down  and 
surround  the  station.' 

"  '  R's '  key  opened  a  moment,  then  he  said  :  'It 
■will  be  done.    What  will  they  do  to  you  ? ' 

"'I  am  doomed— will  probably  be  shot  the  very 
first  thing.    But  some  one  will  swing  for  it.' 

"  '  Good  God  ! '  said  '  R'    '  Is  there  no  help  ? ' 

" '  No — none.      I  would  like    to  have  you  bid 

Mr. (the  Superintendent)  good-by  for  me.    Tell 

him  I  had  resolved  to  live  a  better  life.  And  tell 
Mason  in  the  morning  of  the  trick  I  played  on  him.' 

" '  I  will — I  will.    Is  there  nothing  else  ? ' 

" '  No.  I  had  better  stop  now  or  I  may  arouse 
suspicion.    Good-bye.' 

" '  What  is  all  this  about  ? '  demanded  the  leader 
of  the  highwaymen. 

"  '  A  couple  of  students  practicing,'  I  said  wearily. 

"  A  deep  silence  foUoxved,  broken  at  last  by  the 
sounder  ticking  out :  '  The  train  has  just  left  with 
twenty-eight  policemen  and  citizens  aboard.'j 

"  '  O  K,'  I  answered. 


"  It  would  make  the  run  in  forty  or  forty-five 
minutes. 

"  A  distant  church  bell  chimed  out  eleven  o'clock. 
Where  would  I  he  at  twelve  ? 

"  The  time  wore  heavily  away.  I  reviewed  my 
past  life.  So  far  as  I  knew  I  had  never  harmed  any 
one.  Surely  the  manner  of  my  death  would  atone 
for  some  at  least  of  my  sins.  Whatever  was  before 
me  I  was  prepared  for. 

"  I  had  not  a  relative  living.  No  one,  excepting, 
perhaps,  Mason,  would  mourn  me.  Well  perhaps  it 
was  best  so. 

"  '  The  train  is  due  in  ten  minutes,'  said  Smith. 

"Just  at  that  moment  I  caught  a  sound  which 
escapecV  the  less  practiced  ears  of  my  companions. 
The  train  had  arrived  and  stopped  at  the  curve  ! 

"My  blood  coursed  like  wild-fire  through  my 
veins ;  my  heart  thumped  against  my  side  as  though 
it  would  force  its  way  out.  Every  nerve  was  alive 
with  anticipation. 

"  It  came  at  last.  Both  doors  of  the  station  were 
burst  in  with  a  tremendous  crash — a  wild  rush  was 
made  for  the  inside  office— a  loud  voice  exclaimed : 

"  '  Surrender,  in  the  name  of  the  law  !' 

" '  Betrayed  ! '  shouted  the  leader.  He  placed  the 
barrel  of  the  revolver  to  my  ear — the  hammer  fell 
with  a  dull  thud.  It  had  missed  fire!  With  a 
curse  he  raised  it  in  the  air  and  brought  it  down 
upon  my  head— a  bright  flash  passed  before  my 
eyes,  the  room  sank  away  from  me,  and  all  was 
oblivion, 

******** 

"'I  think  he  looks  a  little  better,  Dr.  Thorne,' 
said  a  sweet  voice.    I  opened  my  eyes. 

"  '  Where  am  I  ? '  I  said.  My  voice  was  feeble 
and  weak. 

" '  You  must  not  talk.  You  are  in  the  hands  of 
friends,  and  all  is  well.' 

"  I  soon  found  that  I  was  in  the  house  of  the 
president  of  the  bank,  and  that  the  young  lady  was 
his  daughter,  Miss  Marion  C— . 

"  Nursed  by  such  hands  my  recovery  was  rapid. 
When  able  to  get  around  I  was  provided  with  a 
clerkship  in  the  bank,  whence  I  have  risen  to  my 
present  position. 

"  The  eight  highwaymen  were  all  captured,  tried, 
and  sentenced  to  various  terms  in  the  State  prison. 
The  ringleader  received  a  life  sentence,  and  is  there 
still.  We  never  found  out  how  they  obtained  intel- 
ligence of  the  proposed  shipment  of  the  bullion. 

"  I  do  not  consider  that  I  did  anything  extraordi- 
nary, and  I  think  almost  any  other  operator  would 
have  done  the  same. 

"  Miss  C—  ?    Oh,  she  is  Mrs.  Erhardt  now. 

"  Well,  there  comes  the  train,  and  I  must  bid  you 
good-night." 


122 


LIGnrNINO  FLASHES. 


I  clasped  his  liand  with  a  firm  grip.  He  was  the 
first  HEUo  I  liad  over  met. 

"  That  was  a  nohlc  deed  of  Erhardt's,"  I  observed 
to  Mason,  now  a  railroad  superintendent,  as  I  met 


Lim  the  next  morning. 


"  Yes  ;  did  you  gel  him  to  tell  you  about  it  ?  He 
does  not  usually  like  to  speak  of  it.  I  consider  him 
the  bravest  man  I  ever  heard  of." 

"Which  were  my  own  sentiments  exactly. 


Hamilton  Doless. 


The  soothsayers  of  the  village  in  ■winch 
Hamilton  Doless  was  born  were  wont  to 
say  of  liim  lliat  "  he  was  a  boy  bound  to 
make  his  mark  in  tlie  world."  Fortunately, 
however,  for  Ilammie,  as  he  was  familiarly 
called,  and  unfortunately  for  the  predictions 
of  the  old  soothsayers,  the  village  dominie 
was  an  expert  in  liandling  the  birch  rod,  and 
taught  the  youthful  Doless  to  read  and 
.write,  much  against  that  worthy's  will. 

How  he  came  to  learn  the  art  of  telegraphy 
I  am  unable  to  say.  Only  on  one  point  am  I 
positive.  He  begun  at  the  lowest  round  of 
the  ladder  and  was  destined  never  to  reach 
the  top.  While  Avorking  in  a  small  branch 
office  he  was  in  the  habit  of  sending  bj"^  his 
messenger  many  very  amusing  and  tender 
billet  cloiix,  with  particular  instructions  to 
deliver  them  at  the  main  office  "  only  to  the 
lady  with  the  golden  hair  who  works  Xl  wire." 
One  morning,  with  heart  and  soul  thrown 
into  the  work  of  fashioning  a  grotescpie  little 
man  out  of  a  cork  and  four  matches,  and  be- 
ing at  his  wit's  end  to  lind  out  how  he  would 
put  a  licad  upon  it  prior  to  presenting  it  to 
his  fair  inamorata,  a  stock  broker,  who  done 
his  telegraphing  through  Ilammie's  hands, 
entered  the  little  office,  laid  tw^o  messages 
upon  the  counter,  and  told  him  to  rush  them. 

Alas  1  Poor  Hammie,  after  successfully 
putting  a  liead  on  his  little  man,  in  a  fit  of 
abstraction  took  up  the  two  stock  messages, 
wrapped  them  around  it,  gave  the  parcel  to 
the  messenger  with  the  usual  instructions  to 
deliver  it  "  to  the  young  lady  with  the  golden 
hair,"  etc.,  sat  down  and  impatiently  awaited 
results.  Nor  liad  he  long  to  wait.  The  mes- 
sages were  found  to  be  mislaid  somewhere, 
and  there  was  an  investigation.     They  were 


found,  and  the  affair  ended  in  Hammie's  dis- 
missal. 

I  lost  track  of  him  for  some  years  after 
that.  It  M'as  vaguely  rumored  that  he  had 
entered  a  well  known  express  company  and 
only  left  when  his  practical  joking  and  fits  of 
abstraction  nearly  precipitated  the  company 
in  insolvency.  I  believe  he  tried  his  hand  as 
a  paripetitic  vender  of  prize  packages  and 
light  refreshments  on  a  railroad  car.  The 
business  not  proving  remunerative,  he  turned 
his  attention  once  more  to  telegraphy, 
this  time  as  a  railroad  operator.  He  never 
caused  any  frightful  railway  collision,  because 
he  WPS  not  allowed  to  try  his  hand  at  train 
dispatching.  His  forte  was  receiving  and 
dispatching  D.  H.  business  from  and  to  the 
head  office  of  the  city  in  which  he  re- 
sided. Here  he  became  the  unwilling  victim 
of  innumerable  jokes,  as  well  as  the  author 
of  innumerable  bulls.  At  least  his  office 
chums — rather  a  smart  set — tell  me  so. 
When  a  young  man  sits  down  and  copies  a 
message  thus  :  "  Train  leaves  at  nine  r.  m. 
with  thirteen  men  on  it  and  going  west,"  and 
said  message  should  read,  "Train  leaves  at 
nine  r.  m.  ;  thirteen  Mennonites  going  west," 
no  one  should  laugh  at  him.  Such  sublime 
efforts  should  be  above  ridicule. 

Hammie  bade  adieu  to  telegraphy  under 
circumstances  in  perfect  keeping  witli  his 
well  known  cliaracter.  One  day  while  send- 
iuGT  a  batch  of  D.  H.  messages  to  the  head 
office  he  discovered  the  receiver  to  be  a  young 
lady  who  had  already  made  sad  work  with  his 
too  suscejjtible  heart.  After  finishing  his 
work  he  entered  into  a  wire  fiirtation  in  total 
ignorance  of  the  fact  that  the  young  lady 
after  copying  a  few  messages  had  given  the 


SCENES  AND  INCIDENTS  IN  A  SUPERINTENDENTS  OFFICE. 


123 


seat  to  a  wacr  named  Jcnt.  After  some  con- 
vei'sation,  in  which  Jent  acted  in  the  usual 
feminine  manner  by  ejaculating  the  usual 
quantities  of  oh  !  oh's  !  oh  !  my's,  etc,  Ilanr 
mio  was  delighted  to  receive  an  invitation 
from  Miss  Stickem  to  call  on  her  Sunday  at 
TiSO  r.  M.,  sure.  Jent  impatiently  awaited 
the  denoicement. 

Faithful  to  the  hour  appointed,  Hammie 
sallied  forth,  and  people  who  saw  him  on  that 
eventful  evening  say  they  never  saw  such 
whiskers,  so  immaculate  a  shirt  front,  or  such 
shiny  boots.     His  very  cane  cut  victorious 


characters  through  the  gentle  summer  air  as 
he  waived  it  aloft  in  his  feeling  of  exultation. 
Arrived  at  the  fateful  portal,  he  pulled  the 
bell.  Old  Mrs.  S.  answered  his  summons. 
To  his  inquiry  "if  Miss  Stickem  was  in,"  she 
tartly  replied  that  she  was  not — she  had  just 
left  the  house  with  an  operator  from  the 
main  office  for  a  di'ive.  Poor  Ilammie! 
The  wax  departed  from  his  whiskers,  the 
starch  from  his  bosom,  and  the  shine  from 
his  boots.  The  joke  was  circulated  near  and 
far.  lie  died  a  few  months  after,  another 
victim  to  the  "  tender  passion." 


Scenes  and  Incidents  in  a  Superintendents  Office, 


One  pleasant  autumn  afternoon  as  the 
superintendent  of  a  western  road  was  lament- 
ing the  scarcity  of  business  ;  dispatchers  and 
operators  were  lazily  yawning  with  their  feet 
perched  upon  the  desks,  while  the  instru- 
ments had,  for  the  nonce,  ceased  their  ever- 
lasting clickety-click,  there  strolled  into 
the  office  a  perfect  specimen  of  the  genus 
Granger,  with  a  new  suit  of  home  spun, 
heavy  stogies,  paper  collar,  and  red  cravat ; 
evidently  got  up  for  the  occasion,  and  doubt- 
less to  make  a  stunning  sensation. 

Boldly  advancing  to  the  nearest  operator, 
he  bellowed  with  an  incomparable  nasal 
twang,  "  Which  of  you  chaps  is  the  superin- 
tendent?" On  being  informed  that  "that 
air  chap  by  the  window  was  the  gent,"  he 
crossed  over,  coolly  took  the  chief's  chair^ 
and  opened  on  the  superintendent  something 
after  this  style — 

"  Arternoon,  boss,  I  cum  in  to  see  about 
getting  a  job ;  have  left  the  farm,  and  am 
going  to  railroading;  and  if  you  need  a 
likely  chap  on  the  road,  just  try  me." 

"  Well,"  says  Mr.  R,,  "  I  have  the  names 
of  a  dozen  "  likely  chaps  "  on  my  list,  wait- 
ing for  a  situation,  so  I  am  afraid  your  show 
is  poor." 

"  But,"  replies  the  persistent  countryman, 
"  I  will  make  a  bully  railroader,  dad  says  so." 


The  superintendent  loolced  at  verdant  a 
moment,  and  queried  :  "  What  branch  of  rail- 
roading is  your  specialty  ?  " 

Country  looked  puzzled  for  an  instant. 

"  Oh,  you  mean  what  kin  I  do  best  ?  Most 
anything ;  run  a  train,  sell  tickets,  travel.  In 
fact,  anj'thing."  And  the  applicant  straight- 
ened back,  and  calmly  awaited  the  expected 
offi^r. 

Mr.  K.  turned  to  his  desk  with  a  smile, 
and  after  apparently  looking  at  some  sta- 
tistics, made  our  hero  an  offer,  which  not 
only  startled,  but  started  him. 

"  It  has  been  two  days  now,"  remarked  the 
superintendent  quietly,  "  since  we  have  killed 
a  brakeman,  and  the  consequence  is  that 
business  is  very  dull;  but  if  you  would  like 
to  brake  on  the  sand  train  down  in  the 
Pogash  pit,  and  will  bind  yourself  to  lose  an 
arm  or  leg  the  first  day,  and  thereby  revive 
business,  I  will — " 

But  the  ambitious  Granger,  looking  wildly 
around  the  office,  made  a  sudden  bolt  for  the 
door,  followed  by  the  hysterical  laughter 
and  shouts  of  the  amused  spectators. 

The  next  caller  was  a  young  lady.  Tim- 
idly rapping  at  the  half  open  door,  she  was 
bade  to  enter,  and  as  Mr.  R.  was  busy,  was 
asked  to  "be  seated.  She  was  a  charmlug 
looking  girl,  with  eyes  and  hair  as  black  as 


V2i 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


midnight,  teeth  like  peiirl.s,  cheeks  and  lips 
like  red,  ripe  cherries.  The  operators  eyed 
her  askance,  with  side  long  glances  and  evi- 
dent admiration.  IJiit  she  was  apparently 
unconsciousness.  The  wires  were  quiet,  dis- 
patchers and  operators  busy  with  their  own 
thoughts,  or  admiring  the  handsome  stranger, 
when  suddenly,  Charley  opened  the  circuit, 
and  ticked,  "  ain't  she  a  stunner.  Peaches, 
line  bird,  eh!  Jim?" 

Jim,  a  fellow  susber,  being  thus  appealed 
to,  edged  over  to  his  key,  and  replied : 
"  Pshaw,  can  scrape  the  paint  off,  false  teeth 
in  upside  down,  and  she  has  on  King  Calico's 
coat ! "  (She  wore  a  beautiful  corded  jacket.) 
A  general  smile  pervaded  the  office,  and 
the  chief  scowled  fiercely  as  Charley  re- 
sumed, "  notice  her  skates.  No.  8's  at  least," 
meaning  her  tiny  boots,  peeping  so  cunningly 
from  under  Iier  dress. 

"  That  hand,"  rejoins  Jim, "  reminds  me  of 
a  wliale's  ear." 

The  Chief  here  seized  the  key,  and  re- 
marked, "That  lady  is  a  book  agent,  and  she 
will  soon  have  her  revenge."  The  Chief 
smiled  grimly  as  a  look  of  blank  horror  and 
dismay  settled  upon  the  faces  of  his  listeners. 
By  tliis  time  the  superintendent  was  at 
leisure,  and  politely  saluting  the  young  lady, 
she  advanced  to  his  desk,  and  said:  "Mr. 
Rose,  I  believe?"  "Yes,  madam,"  he  re- 
plied, "  at  your  service."  j 


"I  liavo  called,"  she  went  on,  "to  obtain 
any  necessary  instruction  in  regard  to  my 
duties  at  Meadow  Junction;  I  am  Miss 
Mattie  Dunlap,  whom  the  superintendent  of 
telegraph  has  kindly  appointed  operator  at 
that  station,  with  orders  to  report  to  you." 
She  here  flashed  a  glance  at  the  embarrassed 
operators,  and  they  suddenly  seized  their  hats 
and  bounded  down  stairs. 

The  superintendent  looked  inquiringly 
around,  as  he  noticed  their  abrupt  departure, 
but  a  merry  twinkle  in  Miss  D.'s  eyes  was 
all  the  exj)lanation  vouchsafed  that  func- 
tionary, as  the  chief  swallowed  his  handker- 
chief, and  the  dispatchers  concealed  their 
laughter  in  a  violent  fit  of  coughing. 

Miss  IMattie  commenced  work  the  next  day, 
and  proved  to  be  a  fine  telegrapher  and 
a  perfect  lady;  and  as  Charley  and  Jim 
sent  ample  apologies  by  train  soon  after, 
which  were  accepted,  the  three  soon  became 
fast  friends.  But  any  allusion  to  "  skates," 
"  whales'  ears,  etc.,  made  to  either  of  the 
gentlemen  by  wire  or  otherwise,  is  sure  to 
be  followed  by  an  explosion.  Two  years 
have  passed,  pregnant  with  many  changes. 
Jim  is  now  working  in  the  general  office  of 
an  eastern  road.  Mrs.  Charley  F.,  nee  Dun- 
lap,  has  "gone  into  other  business,"  and 
Charley  is  chief  dispatcher,  rather  austere, 
but  as  full  of  fun  as  ever. 


Our  Night  Car* 


Thehe  is  a  large  class  of  disdainful  and  luxurious 
aristocrats  iu  this  world  who  paj'  so  little  attention 
to  the  manner  in  which  Ihey  are  served  by  we  poor 
mortals,  that  they  imagine  that  every  man  who 
works  after  niglitfall  is  necessarily  a  "  watchmnu  " 
of  some  kind.  They  do  not,  it  is  true,  devote  much 
thought  to  the  matter,  but  on  general  reasoning 
tlicy  become  possessed  of  the  "  ide-yah,"  you  know, 
that  all  the  professional  loafing  necessary  to  make 
your  employers  happy  is  performed  during  the  days, 
and  that  any  solitary  job  which  necessitates  a  man's 
absence  from  home  during  the  night  must,  perforce, 
be  iu  the  nature  of  keeping  a  watchful  eye  on  the 


piles  of  money  coined  and  stowed  away  in  the 
broad  light  of  heaven  during  seasonable  liours. 
This  class  of  persons,  together  with  the  professional 
day  men,  have  much  to  learn  of  the  vast  and  varied 
amount  of  work  which  is  done  by  telegraphers  at 
night,  and  some  of  the  thankless  duties  entailed 
therewith  which  are  unknown  to  the  freshly  polish- 
ed and  intellectual  day  man.  The  latter  gentleman 
may  form  some  idea  of  the  amount  of  labor  well 
and  faithfully  performed  b^'-  the  niglit  man  by  look- 
ing at  the  number  sheets  next  morning,  or  by  read- 
ing the  "  specials  "  as  they  appear  column  after 
column  in  the  morning  paper  which  he  invariably 


OUR  NIGHT  CAR. 


125 


borrows ;  but  he  can  never  know  of  the  side  scenes 
— of  the  drivelling  lunatics  and  rampant  madmen 
who,  in  large  cities,  Avander  about  the  streets  at 
uiglit,  and  who  are  attracted  into  the  office,  like 
moths,  b}^  the  lights  in  your  window.  At  one  time 
it  is  "Old  Bradford"  who  drops  in  toward  mid- 
night merely  to  give  you  a  striking  illustration  of 
his  dramatic  attitude  when  the  Judge  last  seiitenced 
him  to  the  lunatic  asylum ;  at  another  time  it  is  a 
forlorn  and  boosy  outcast,  calling  in  on  general 
principles  —  dismal  and  drenched,  with  "  Led 
Astray  "  painted  on  the  back  of  his  coat  (an  expla- 
nation of  which  he  is  in  blissful  ignorance) ;  still 
again  it  is  the  political  fiend,  mad  from  too  much 
cipher  message,  who  brings  you  forty  foolscap 
sheets  of  bad  manuscript  which  he  wants  tele- 
graphed at  once  to  the  Secretary  of  War ;  and  the 
occasions  are  by  no  means  infrequent  when  your 
visitor  betrays  a  lurking  curiosity  and  conveys  to 
you  a  general  impression  painfully  expressive  of 
the  slung-shot,  the  bludgeon,  and  the  pistol.  Club- 
bing these  old  clowns  out  of  the  otiice,  however,  is 
a  very  small  item  in  the  extra  work  of  a  night  man 
for  which  he  never  draws  any  extra  pay. 

It  is  in  going  home,  about  daj'-break,  freezing  in 
the  night  car,  where  you  pay  double  fare  for  half 
accommodation,  that  the  night  man  stores  up  an 
experience  which  will  be  forever  a  dark  mystery 
to  the  professional  quacks  and  botches  who  cobble 
up  the  public  business  and  cook  the  company's  ac- 
counts by  day,  and  ride  home  in  luxurious  cars  in 
the  evening.  Everbody  knows  that  when  a  loco- 
motive lias  collided  with  a  day  car,  riddled  it 
through  the  side  with  the  cow-catcher,  and  left  its 
head-light  and  a  pair  of  decayed  elk  horns  sticking 
in  the  roof,  it  would  be  against  any  general  super- 
intendent's ideas  of  economy  to  have  it  repaired. 
They  simply  transfer  the  wrecked  conveyance  to 
the  night  line,  and  the  extra  elk  horns  in  the  roof 
make  an  excellent  hat-rack,  while  such  foreign 
substances  as  broken  cow-catchers  and  greasy 
head-lights  afford  cheap  ornamentation,  as  well  as 
avoiding  the  expense  of  repairing  the  vehicle. 
And  so  when  great  holes  have  been  worn  in  the 
flooring,  and  some  of  the  passengers  fall  through, 
their  feet  are  on  the  pavement,  but  the  major  part 
of  their  bodies  are  in  the  car.  They  have  to  run 
like  fury  to  keep  up  with  their  fellow  passengers 
who,  where  the  floor  is  solid,  are  comfortably  sitting 
beside  them.  As  a  general  thing  a  man  would 
object  to  paying  full  fare  for  the  privilege  of  run- 
ning all  the  way  home  with  the  very  thin  delusion 
of  being  inside  the  car ;  but,  since  the  pace  is  rarely 
a  forced  one,  he  falls  to  reflecting  on  what  a  noble 
work  he  is  engaged  in — saving  a  gigantic  corpora- 
tion the  price  of  a  new  floor.  It  is  only  once  in  a 
while,  when  the  horses,  upon  a  sudden  recollection 


of  better  days,  make  a  spurt  and  "  force"  theruu- 
ning,  as  it  were,  that  the  breathless  passenger  will 
get  mad  and  attempt  to  crawl  up  on  the  solid  part 
of  the  floor  where  there  is  not  standing  room  for 
another  man.  It  is  a  standing  rule  of  economy  at 
the  manufacturies — they  ape  all  alike— that  nothing 
at  all  shall  be  wasted.  Wild  extravagance  and  dire 
necessity  cccasionally  compel  the  frugal  oflicials  to 
build  new  cars ;  and  wheels  for  new  day  cars,  cash 
in  defective  molds  by  cheap  workmen — wheels 
comprising  octagon  and  oval  shapes — are  reserved 
for  the  night  line.  No  wheel  on  a  night  car  was 
ever  known  to  be  positively  round,  or  if  one  that 
had  once  been  round  is  taken  from  a  day  car  for 
night  use,  by  some  spendthrift  of  a  roadmaster,  it  is 
one  of  those  technically  known  as  a  "  flat  wheel." 

Frank  drives  our  night  car — Frank  Myers.  We 
call  him  "  the  two  forty-five,"  that  being  his  starting 
time.  But  like  a  first-class  operator  he  is  always  late, 
though  he  tries  to  drive  very  fast.  All  the  night 
telegraphers  entertain  a  kind  of  fellow  feeling  for 
Frank,  for,  besides  being  a  robust,  cheerful,  good, 
honest  fellow,  who  never  knocked  down  a  penny  in 
his  life,  he  is  a  "night  man" — not  a  vassal,  but  a 
peer— just  as  thoroughly  as  we  are;  and  we  are  all 
classed  under  the  generic  title  of  "owls" — proba- 
bly from  the  day  men's  keen  appreciation  of  our 
superior  wisdom. 

Frank,  although  rarely  demonstrative,  shows 
himself  to  best  advagtage  when,  holding  his  lines 
well  in  hand,  he  is  presiding  with  judicial  dignity  and 
undisputed  horsemanship  over  what  is  known  to 
his  profession  as  a  "  standing  load  "  of  passengers 
(which  includes  those  who  are  running,  owing  to 
their  feet  protruding  through  the  floor).  It  must 
be  borne  in  mind  that  Philadelphia  night  cars,  for 
economy's  sake,  carry  no  conductors,  so  that  a 
standing  load  is  very  satisfactory  to  Frank,  as  it 
fills  his  patent  Slawson  box  with  cash. 

Although  a  very  muscular  man,  Frank  is  general- 
ly disposed  to  be  urbane,  as  the  general  run  of  his 
passengers — newspaper  men,  telegraph  men,  and 
benighted  tipplers — are  usually  very  feeble,  very 
tired,  or  very  crestfallen.  No  tempest  can  ruffle  his 
demeanor.  No  winter's  snows,  nor  midsummer 
night's  heat,  nor  rain,  nor  hail  pelting  him  in  the 
bronzed  face  can  change  the  official  bearing  of  Frank. 
Only  when,  where  there  is  a  double  track,  he  is 
going  up  with  a  standing  load  and  meets  a  plug  of 
a  driver  coming  down  with  one  passenger  does  a 
contemptuous  smile  play  upon  his  lips  as  he  drives 
triumphantly  past,  and  marks  the  dissimulating 
nonchalance  with  which  the  downward  bound 
driver  strives  to  whistle  gayly  in  a  vain  endeavor  to 
display  his  total  anconcern  and  supreme  indifl'er- 
ence. 

An  episode  like  this  will  "  draw  him  out."    Hold- 


126 


LIGnTNING  FLASHES. 


ing  his  lines  with  one  hand,  his  two  emaciated, 
wiieczy,  and  rheumatic  steeds  jogging  on  in  chronic 
despair,  he  makes   excited  gesticidations  wilh  the 
other  as  he  relates  how,  in  his  golden  youth,  he 
drove  the  Liberty  Engine,  and  how  he  invariably 
secured  the  fire  plug  nearest  the  conllagration,  al- 
thougli  he  would   achieve   that  enviable  position 
only  by  furiously  driving  for  a  mile  on  throe  wheels, 
owing  to  the  base  machinations  of   the  Reliance 
Hook  and  Ladder  that  purposely  run  into  liim.     He 
refers  with  much  pathos  to  the  "  mettle  "  of  the  two 
old  rips  now  drawing  his  car.    AV' hen  one  of  them 
lies  down  to  enjoy  an  extra  sound  sleep,  which  is 
often,  he  excuses  the  animal  in  the  most  soothing 
terms  to  the  irate  passengers.     He  will  insist  that 
the  mettle  is  there,  and  that  they  are  unmatchable 
■v\hen  "in  trim;"    but  the  misfortune  is  manifest 
that  they  never  happen  to  be  in  trim  at  one  and  the 
same  time.     When    his  "chestnut  colt  "—which 
can  not  be  less  than  seventy-five  years  old — comes 
out  cf  the  stable  professedly  full  of  steam  and 
speed,  its  mate,  the  "  bay  mare,"  is  disposed  to  lie 
down  and  reflect  on  life  in  general.    On  another 
night,  when  the  bay  mare— which  is  worth  about 
two  dollars,  delivered  at  the  pork  packing  estab- 
lishment-is feeling  skittish,  the  chestnut  colt  will 
be  laboring  with  the  rheumatism.    But  these  crush- 
ing facts  never  melt  Frank's  faith  in  the  unfortunate 
quadrupeds.    He  will  keep  up  the  thread  of  a  polit- 
ical argument  in  the  most  adroit  manner,  without  a 
break,    even  when    the    jolting    of    the    caboose 
tumbles  him  back  among  the  passengers,  or  when 
the  unexpected  stoppage  of  his  cattle— 'twere  base 
flattery  to  call  them  horses— pitches  him  headlong 
over  the  dash-board. 

"While  engaged  in  these  multifarious  duties,  Frank 
can   drive  a  very  Shylock's  bargain  with   a  fish- 
woman  who  proposes  to  carry  her  market  stall,  two 
baskets  of  questionable  herrings,  and  her  corpulent 
self  all  for  one  fare.     Of  course,  there  are  times — 
state  occasions— when  Frank's  temper  is  milled ; 
for  instance,  when  one  of  the  city  authorities,  a 
belated  chief  operator,  or  some  other  pompous  in- 
dividual enters  the  car,  dumps  a  number  of  pennies 
into  the  Slawson  box  on  top  of  a  fare  just  previous- 
ly deposited,  and  then  volunteers  to  wage  mortal 
combat  with  Frank  rather  than  admit  that  he  only 
put  nine  rents  in  the  box.     He  would  be  a  base 
slave  who  would  pay  tribute  of  a  single  extra  cent 
to  a  grasping  corporation,  while  on  a  night  car  even 
behind  two  alleged   fiery  steeds,  would  be  but  a 
desert  waste  to  Frank  if  he  were  bull-dozed  into 
carrying  passengers  for  nine  cents.     When  factious 
opposition  has  done  its  worst,  the  passengers  all 
stand  on  the  seats  to  give  them  room ;  Frank  cooUj- 
hands  his  reins  to  me,  and  it  is  only  after  they  have 


clinched  and  rolled  each  other  in  the  straw  on  the 
floor,  with  the  regular  riders  to  "  trebly  thundering 
swell  the  gale,"  that  the  refractory  city  authority, 
belated  chief  operator,  or  other  pompus  individual 
bows  to  the  great  corporation  and  the  gods  of  war 
and  puts  another  cent  in  the  box. 

When  the  car  stops  to  i)ick  up  a  fresh  passenger 
all  eyes  are,  as  everybody  knows,  turned  toward 
the  door  to  see  who  it  is.  It  the  newcomer  chances 
to  be  intoxicated,  all  the  other  intoxicated  men  in 
the  car  consider  it  incumbent  upon  themselves  to 
fall  down  in  the  straw  or  to  jab  their  elbows 
through  the  window  gla?a,  merely  to  attest  their 
frenzied  eagerness  to  get  up  and  assist  the  unfortu- 
nate stranger.  They  all  shake  hands  with  him 
cordially,  Irom  pure  human  sympathy.  His  zig-zag 
progress  from  the  rear  door  to  the  Slawson  box  in 
front  is  one  vast  tumultuous  ovation  ;  and,  while 
fumbling  in  his  pockets  for  the  fare,  he  is  generous- 
ly bolstered  up  with  an  improvised  scaff"old — a 
very  forest  of  walking  canes,  umbrellas,  and  other 
handy  props.  He  is  then  expected  to  tread  on  four 
men's  toes  on  his  way  to  a  prottered  seat,  where  he 
must  deliver  a  kind  of  inaugural  address,  lean  over 
on  somebody  more  stupid  than  himself,  and  go  to 
sleep. 

Then  on  a  winter  night,  when  the  drifting  snow 
nearly  blinds  Frank,  they  make  all  kinds  of  riotous 
demonstrations,  and  get  him  so  worried   that  in 
going  round  a  sharp  curve  he  gets  ofi  the  track. 
Now,  if  the  large-hearted  passengers  would   only 
let  him  alone  he  could  soon  get  on  again  all  right, 
Ijut  with  that  unbounded  liberality  characteristic  of 
inebriated  Philadelphians,  they  emerge  with    the 
avowed  purpose  of  lifting  the  car  upon  the  track 
a"-ain.    A  very  simple  calculation  will  demonstrate 
that,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  forty  men  can 
lift  a  street  car,  and  it  they  are  sober  and  display  a 
certain  degree  of  unanimity  they  can  carry  the  same 
from  the  gutter  and  deposit  it  squarely  on  the  track 
without  much  trouble.    But,  while  forty  drunken 
men  are  quite  capable  of  lifting  a  car— including  a 
man  asleep  and  a  fat  woman  inside,  and  the  driver 
on  the  dash-board — they  are,  owing   to  a  lack  of 
unanimity,  only  able  to  stagger  about  in  the  snow, 
objectless,  but  enthusiastic  and  undaunted,  embel- 
lishing the  perfonnance  with   fiendish  screams  of 
encouragement  to  each  other,  frantically  yelling  to 
"  hold  her  up,"  "  away  she  goes,"  etc.     Frank  gets 
too  mad  for  anything,  and  threatens  to  run  a-muck 
among  the  fuming  crowd,  which,  after  describing 
numerous  eccentric  circles  with  its  unnatural  load, 
deposits  the  same,  back  end  foremost,  nearer  to  the 
gutter,  and  suddenly  melts  into  a  snow-bank.     In 
spite    of  Frank's  vehement    remonstrances    they 
come  at  it  once  more,  shake  hands  all  round,  each 


LIGHTNING  ANECDOTES. 


137 


congratulating  his  neighbor  on  his  wonderful 
prowess,  and  they  sieze  it  again.  Then  ensues  a 
terrific  racket ;  the  three-ton  car  is  again  hoisted 
into  the  air,  the  same  pushing  and  staggering  and 
shouting  recommences,  Frank's  animals  rear  with 
afifright,  the  rattling  of  lamps  and  window  glass 
awakens  the  man  inside  who  has  been  dreaming 
that  he  was  on  a  French  steamship  in  a  storm.  The 
willing  throng,  amid  a  tremendous  noise,  wander 
all  over  the  street  with  their  immense  load  until  by 
a  stroke  of  good  luck  they  let  it  drop  in  tlie  proper 
place  on  the  track.  Then  comes  the  pantomine. 
Frank  starts  his  team  at  a  gallop,  and  knowing  that 
a  second  stoppage  would  stick  him  again  inthe  snow, 
he  lashes  the  beasts  nto  a  furious  pace.  Of  course, 
this  proceeding  obliges  his  volunteer  aids  to  mount 
the  car  while  it  is  in  rapid  motion  ;  and  it  is  no  easy 
matter  for  forty  inebriated  men  to  board  a  rapidly 
moving  car  all  at  one  time.     By  dint  of  wonderful 


feats  of  agility,  however,  and  amid  Indianlike 
whooping  and  yelling,  about  twenty-two  of  them 
get  in  through  the  windows  or  over  the  dash-board, 
while  the  remaining  eighteen  go  home  afoot  or  fall 
asleep  in  the  snow. 

The  lucky  ones  who  have  thus  'got  aboard  un- 
scathed generally  slumber  peacefully  after  their  self- 
imposed  task;  but  up-town,  when  Frank  wakes 
them  up  and  disembarks  them  in  squads,  the  fun 
recommences.  Men  who  on  entering  the  car  were 
utter  strangers  to  each  other  congregate  under  the 
nearest  lamp-post,  issue  to  each  other  unlimited 
invitations  to  dine,  and  rend  the  air  with  fervid 
protestations  of  undying  friendship.  And  as  I  nes- 
tle up  in  a  vacant  corner  for  a  quiet  nap  I  hear 
our  late  passengers  in  the  distarce  extolling,  in  sup- 
posed musical  meterthe  natural  and  acquired  abil- 
ities of  that  admirable  genius,  '•  Muldoon,  the  solid 
man." 


Lightning  Anecdotes, 


Colonel  Wilsox,  the  Chicago  superintendent, 
maintains  that  the  method  of  reading  by  sound  is  a 
sort  of  Western  institution.  It  happened  that  when 
the  Prince  of  Wales  visited  this  country  sound  read- 
ing was  a  thing  entirely  new  to  him,  and  he  and  his 
escort  never  ceased  commenting  on  the  fact  that 
they  should  come  to  the  wilds  of  the  Mississippi 
Valley  to  become  familiar  with  one  of  the  marvels 
of  the  world. 

Colonel  Wilson  was  the  telegrapher  accompany- 
ing the  Prince  and  his  suite  while  traveling  in  the 
West,  and  he  has  a  rich  fund  of  anecdotes  concern- 
ing that  period.  While  traveling  through  Illinois 
the  party  took  frequent  occasions  to  indulge  in  hunt- 
ing excursions.  To  this  end  the  most  sparsely  set- 
tled regions  were  selected.  At  one  time,  after  a 
protracted  hunt,  the  party  had  occasion  to  cross  a 
railway  track,  and  the  sight  of  the  telegraph  poles 
and  wire  excited  in  the  Prince  and  several  members 
of  the  suite  a  desire  to  place  themselves  in  commu- 
nication with  civilization  once  more.  The  Colonel 
adjusted  his  pocket  instrument,  but  soon  found  that 
in  one  direction  the  wires  were  down,  and,  casting 
his  eye  along  the  track  he  noticed  the  source  of  the 
trouble,  by  means  of  a  field  telescope,  about  half  a 
mile  beyond. 

"  I  guess  I'll  mend  that  break,"  said  the  Colonel, 
in  the  presence  of  the  Duke  of  Newcastle. 

"  Have  you  the  wire  to  do  it  with?"  inquired  his 
grace. 

"No,"  answered  the  Colonel,  "but  I  guess  I'll 
s.ead  for  some." 


"  But,  sir,"  said  the  Duke,  somewhat  alarmed, 
"  we  can't  do  without  you,  and  I'm  sure  we  can't 
wait  here  a  day  or  two  while  you  send  to  the  near- 
est station,  which  I  understand  is  ten  miles  away, 
for  the  repairing  material." 

"  I'll  repair  the  break  and  not  detain  you  longer 
than  the  time  you  will  require  to  dispatch  your 
lunch,"  returned  the  imperturbable  Colonel,  and 
while  he  was  still  talking  to  the  credulous  Duke — 
to  whom,  however,  he  had  given  no  hint  how  the 
repair  was  to  be  efiected — a  train  came  in  sight.  In 
a  twinkling  it  was  upon  them  and,  as  it  passed  the 
spot  where  the  party  was  congregated,  at  a  tremend- 
ous burst  of  speed,  a  coil  of  wire  was  thrown  from 
the  baggage  car,  and  in  half  an  hour  the  break  was 
repaired. 

The  Duke  after  referred  to  the  fact  as  a  most  strik- 
ing example  of  what  was  known  as  "  fast "  America, 
and  even  after  the  simple  explanation  of  the"  trick," 
he  still  thought  it  marvelous  and  could  only  have 
been  performed  in  America.  The  case  was  simply 
this:  As  soon  as  Colonel  Wilson  found  the  wire 
broken,  and  while  in  communication  with  the  near- 
est station  in  the  direction  in  which  the  wire  was  not 
broken,  he  had  given  orders  to  put  a  coil  of  wire  on 
the  next  train,  with  instructions  to  throw  it  olf  at 
the  point  where  the  company  would  be  found  mak- 
ing a  halt.  Even  while  he  was  giving  this  order 
the  answer  was  returned,  "  The  train  is  now  in 
sight,"  and  hence  he  could  calculate  that  it  would 
reach  the  point  at  which  they  were  camped  in  less 
than  half  an  hour.    It  was  about  twenty  minutes 


128 


LlGUTyiNG  FLASHES. 


later  that  he  liul  the  conversation  with  the  Duke, 
and  hence  it  was  that  while  they  were  still  talking 
over  the  matter  the  train  came  in  sight. 

At  one  time,  in  the  early  winter  months,  one  of 
the  company's  caljles  crossing  the  Mississippi  was 
broken.  As  bad  luck  never  comes  singly  it  so 
happened  at  the  time  that  the  river  was  wild  with 
ice,  and  it  was  literally  impossible  for  those  on  one 
side  to  communicate  with  those  on  the  other  by  the 
ordinary  methods.  In  this  dilemma  it  occurred  to 
Colonel  Wilson  to  bring  a  locomotive  into  requisi- 
tion. As  quickly  as  possible  he  submitted  himself 
to  a  short  but  comprehensive  course  of  instruction 
with  reference  to  working  the  whistle  of  his  new 
contrivance,  and,  having  acquired  the  art,  the  iron 


horse  was  pranced  to  a  point  near  the  river's  side, 
and  then  the  Colonel  began  to  "  blow  his  horn  "  as 
he  never  blew  it  before  nor  since.  People  in  the 
town  on  the  opposite  side  wondered  for  a  long  time 
what  had  got  into  that  locomotive,  but  all  of  a  sud- 
den a  telegraph  operator  over  yonder  began  to  pick 
his  ears  and  exclaim,  "  Wh}',  that  darned  locomotive 
is  calling  this  station;  it  is  giving  our  signal!" 
Then  it  occurred  to  the  operator  what  was  wanted, 
and,  engaging  a  locomotive  on  his  own  side  of  the 
river,  he  ran  to  a  convenient  point,  and  then  ensued 
what  must  ever  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  loudest 
intelligible  conversations  on  record.  The  method 
of  confab  proved  perfectly  satisfactory  to  all  con- 
cerned. 


s:^— 


.^L.ID.   XOOO. 

Ancient  Knight,  PnoiiDLY — "  Yes,  Tommv,  I  was  for  many  years  an  operator,  and  in 
my  time  transmitted  many  messatjes  over  tlie  wires." 
Tommy,  Inteuested — "What  did  you  sign?" 


_^pii;i^•C^^v^'•?^ 


.^-W  ^^r'-^ 


THE  QUADRUPLEX. 


129 


PrnPHlLA2.-w-.  ta^ 


The  Quadruplex! 


Explanation  : 

A,  The  armature  lever,  which  the  Operator  grasps  firmly. 
C,  The  Condenser. 
O,  The  Operator. 

R,  R,  Receivers,  constructed  of  wicker-work,  on  either  side  of  the  instrument,  and  Into 
which  messages  are  put,  to  be  forwarded. 
X,  X,  An  extra  local,  for  emergencies. 

Directions. 


Put  a  whole  day's  business  in  the  Re- 
ceivers (R  R).  Then  make  a  good,  firm, 
and  very  rapid  connection  between  the  ar- 
mature lever  (A)  and  the  condenser  (C).  If 
this  does  not  result  satisfactorily,  give  a  few 
light  twists  (upward)  to  the  extra  local, 
(X  X),  and  let  the  armature  lever  (A) 
vibrate  pretty  freely.  In  recent  experiments 
the  most  astounding  rates  of  speed  have  been 
attained  in  this  manner. 


As  in  the  Duplex,  an  occasional  return 
current,  or  "  kick  "  is  unavoidable,  but  with 
this  invention  it  is  more  easily  remedied.  In 
Mr.  Steam's  apparatus,  a  complication  of 
devices  and  several  problems  in  Euclid  are 
necessary  to  counteract  the  "  kick,"  whereas, 
in  the  Quadruplex,  only  a  common  piece  of 
sheet  iron  (one  foot  square)  is  required,  and 
which  the  Operator  can  easily  adjust  to  suit 
himself — inside  his  wearing  apparel. 


ICO 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


Consulting  Electrician,  Prof.  James  La  Rissey,  called  not  long  since  upon  Mons.  C.  McCarty, 
Chief  Engineer  of  Electromotive  Force,  at  the  latter's  laboratory  in  the  Main  Office  in 
this  city.  A  learned  discussion  ensued  in  regard  to  the  uses  of  "ilc"  in  Callaud  Cells. 
— Operator,  Sept  15, 1874.   Drawn  by  J.  Christie. 


A  Ludicrous  3Iista1ce, 


A  SHORT  time  ago  Mr.  Kosciusko  H.  Koselowski, 
a  reporter  attached  to  the  Brooklyn  Freie  Presse, 
"svas  directed  by  the  city  editor  of  the  paper  to  at- 
tend the  investigation  into  the  condition  of  the  in. 
sane  at  the  Flatbush  Asylum.  !Mr.  Koselowski  went 
to  Flatbush  and  found  that  the  investigation  did 
not  take  place  until  the  afternoon,  which  would  be 
too  late,  the  Freie  Presse  being  an  evening  paper. 
Wishing  to  inform  the  city  editor  of  this  fact,  the 
reporter  went  to  the  almshouse  at  Flatbush  and 
telegraphed  a  request  to  police  headquarters  that  a 
man  be  sent  to  inform  the  Freie  Presse  that  he  was 
at  the  lunatic  asylum,  but  could  not  get  back  before 
the  paper  went  to  press.  The  message  was  sent 
from  headquarters  to  the  First  Precinct,  near  which 
the  ofBcc  of  the  newspaper  referred  to  is  situated. 
The  sergeant  who  received  it  said  to  one  of  the 


men,  "  Just  step  round  to  the  Freie  Press  ofHce  on 
Myrtle  Avenue,  and  tell  the  people  there  that  Kose- 
lowski is  at  the  lunatic  asylum."  The  man  hurried 
round  to  the  office  in  question,  and  informed  the 
astonished  publisher  that  Cardinal  McCloskey  was 
in  the  lunatic  asylum  at  Flatbush.  The  informa- 
tion, coming  from  a  policeman,  was  deemed  trust- 
worthy, and  upon  the  strength  of  it  the  Freie  Presse 
announced,  with  startling  head  lines  in  its  last  edi- 
tion, that  Cardinal  McCloskey  was  insane,  and  had 
been  taken  to  the  Flatbush  Lunatic  Asylum. 
Further  particulars  were  promised  in  an  extra  edi- 
tion. It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  the  "  extra  "  did 
not  appear.  The  ludicrous  mistake  arose  cither 
from  the  mispronunciation  of  the  name,  Koselowski, 
by  the  policeman,  or  a  misapprehension  on  the  pait 
of  the  pubUsher. 


Ccjesar :  Wiro  is  it  tx  tiik  coruidor  that  calls  :\ik  ?    T  ni<:Ain>  a  voice  loudkr  than 

PDUTY    SOUNDERS    CRY,     CmsaT. 

Soothsayer :  Beware  the  Bannister  Stairs. — Art  I.  Scene  8d. 


The  Carnival  of  Oshkosh. 


A  TRAGEDY  IN  THREE  ACTS. 


LIST  or  CnAKACTERS. 


John  Julius  CiESAU  Smith,  Manager  W.  U.  Tel.  Office  of 

Oshkosh. 
Antony  Bkown,  Chief  Operator. 
Lepidas  Patuick,  Cashier. 

Pliers,  A  lineman,  afterward  Foreman  ofHepairs. 
Quill,  A  drunken  book-keeper. 
GOAUEAD,  .1  lilug. 

CONSPIRATORS. 

Brutus  Armature,  A  champion  sender. 
Ikdigo,  a  villain  of  the  dcc-ixst  dye. 
Casa  B.  Anchor,  -1  veteran. 


Hans,  A  second-classman,  {the last  of?ds  line.) 
Ostrich,  A  jylumc. 

JeTry.     [^"i'^^-»^«- 
Shrub,  A  substitute. 

Grimes,  A  battery  man,  one  hundred  years  old. 
ScuLPiN,  a  messenger  boy,  grandsonto  Old  Grimes. 
Reporter  for  the  Journal  of  the  Telegraph. 
Manager  of  the  A.  <fc  P.,  and  forces. 
Operators,  Messengers,  etc.,  etc. 

Scene  :  Oshkosh  ;    Various  parts  of  the  Western   Union 
buihlir>j  and  adjoining  street. 


ACT    I 


Scene  1.  A  street  in  front  of  the  office.  Pliers  standing  on 

the  doorsteps  addressing  a  crowd  of  operators  and 

message  boys. 
Fliers.    And  now,  gentlemen,  as  we  have  set  the  ball 
in  motion, 

I  hope  you  all  will  lend  a  hand 

To  keep  it  rolling, 
1st.  Operator :  Kead  the  paper.  Pliers. 
2d.  Operator :  The  paper  !  the  paper !  read  it,  Pliers. 
Thiers :  Well,  here  it  is.     [Reads] 

We  who  sign  otir  name  below. 

Operators  of  Oshkosh. 
2d.  Operator :  That's  us. 
1st.  Operator :  Silency  ! 
Pliers :  We  who  sign  our  Tiames  below — 
'3d.  Operator :  Louder ! 
JYiei's :  We  who  sign  our  names  below. 

Operators  of  Oshkosh, 

Our  duty  and  our  love  to  show 

For  our  most  efficient  Boss — 
2d.  Operator :  That  don' t  rhyme, 
1st.  Operhtor ;  Silence  !  Silence  !  go  ahead,  Pliers. 
Pliers:  [To  1st.  Operator]  I  pray  you  stop  your  noise; 
you  but  assist  the  racket. 

[Reads] 

We  who  sign  our  names  below. 

Operators  of  Oshkosh, 

Our  duty  and  our  love  to  show 

For  our  effi/:ient  —■^— 

od.    Operator :  Bosh  ! 

Pliers :  And  worthy  manager,  hereicith 
Give  such  simi  (as  each  shall  choose) 
To  buy  John  Jidius  Caesar  Smith 
Onejiair  gold  plated  overshoes. 

1st  Operator :  Bravo  !  Pliers  ;  that's  first-rate  ;  put  me 
down  ten  cents.  Pliers. 

2d  Operator :  Ten  cents  !  put  me  down  for  fifty  cents, 

3(Z  Operator :  Me,  too. 

4th  Operator :  And  me. 

5t?i  Operator :  And  me. 

Pliers :  [writing]  George  Wheelock,  ten  cents  ;  Jim  Ma- 
lone,  fifty  cents  ;  Ned  Beardslee,  fifty;  Frank  Tem- 
ple, fifty  ;  Minman,  fifty 

M  Ojyerator:  Put  Wheelock  down  fifty,  too. 

1st  Operator:  No  you  don't ;  I  can't  raise  fifty-two. 
[Enter  Indigo,  Tom  and  Ja-ry]. 

Tom :  What's  all  this— the  Republican  convention  ? 
I  thought  it  met  next  month  in  Cincinnati, 

Jerry:  Anybody  hurt? 

Pliers:  Good  morrow,  noble  Indigo;  good  morrow, 
worthy  Tom  and  Jerry, 
You're  just  the  men  we  want.    Gentlemen  : 
We  are  starting  a  subscription  paper 
To  procure  for  our  efficient 

Sd  Ojxrator:  Bosh. 

Pliers :  A  pair  of  gold  plated  overshoes. 

J/ct  me  have  your  names  for  that  amount 
Tour  several  hoards  can  spare  ; 
For,  mark  me,  noble  sirs,  in  giving  this 
We  do  but  show  a  common  gratitude  ,. 
-.For  favors  long  and  kindly  rendered. 


Indigo :  Give  him  overshoes  ?  give  Lira  a  number  sheet. 
What !  Pliers,  wouldst  thou  bleed 
These  overworked  and  famished  toilers 
To  fat  your  bloated  spider  V 
Why,  man,  he  hates  us  all,  and  holds  us 
But  as  a  part  of  his  supplies  ;  to  use  to-day, 
To-morrow  thrown  aside  as  idle  rubbish 
With  no  kind  thought  bestowed  on. 
Give  him  overshoes? 
Tom:  [sings],  ' 

Our  office  is  a  hive  of  bees, 

Our  skill  and  labor  coins  the  money, 
We  get  our  daily  bread  and  cheese. 
Official  drones  get  all  the  honey. 

They  make  us  work  with  one  accord, 
And  drive  ics  like  ajMck  of  asses  ; 
The  honeycomb  is  their  reward, 
While  we  are  glad  to  get  molasses. 
Indigo :  Go  ask  the  bondsman,  toiling  'neath  the  lash, 
For  presents  to  bestow  upon  the  overseer. 
Csesar  is  our  taskmaster,  not  our  friend  ; 
The  meaner  stipend  with  which  he  bu3-s  our  labor 
The  better  is  his  standing  at  headquarters  ; 
His  selfish  interests  thrive  best  upon  our  sore  dis- 
comfort. 
And  so  he  grinds  us  as  occasion  offers. 
Give  him  overshoes  ? 
Jerry :  Aye,  while  we  who  bear  the  burden  and  the 
roas 
Wear  out  our  last  year's  rubbers. 
Indigo:  Give  me  the  papers  ;  let  me  sign — 
[Takes pajier  and  tears  it  tip]. 
There's  my  handwriting.  Pliers. 
Pliers :  [Going]  You  have  the  paper,  but  I've  got  the 
scrip,  [cents, 

1st.    Operator:  Here,  Pliers,  give  me  back  that  ten 
2d.  Operator:  Give  me  my  fifty  cents,  Pliers. 
3(7.  Operator :  And  mine. 
Aih.  Operator:  And  mine. 
5th.  Operator:  Come  boys,  let's  bounce  him. 

[Exit  Pliers  and  operators  within  the  building]. 
Indigo :  So,  we  have  damped  their  ardor  in  the  present 
business, 
And,  I  hope,  sown  seeds  of  future  discord. 
This  man  of  number  sheets,  thrusting  these  errors 
Daily  in  our  faces,  restricting  us  by  rules 
That  might  well  grace  the  forecastle  of  a  frigate. 
Shall  feel  our  eternal  vengeance.    Hark  ye,  my 

lads. 
This  can  of  paraffine  I  ^-ragged  from  out  the 
store-room ;  [staircase. 

Make  haste  and  spread  it  o'er  the  main  street 
You  know  the  wherefore. 
Tom:  Yes— so  that  Cffisar  may  enjoy  a  slice  of  this 
same  sliding  scale 
When  coming  down  the  stairs. 
Indigo:  Away!  [Exit  Tom  and  Jet-ry.] 

We  have  our  victim  safe,  that's  sure ;  , 
I'll  go  tell  Brutus  Armature  ; 
Great  Csesar  Smith  shall  stub  his  toe, 
Or  else  my  name's  not  Indigo. 


13!: 


LIOnTNlNO  FLASHES 


Scene  II.  Interior  qf  the  \Yestern  Union  Office.  Opera- 
ting Eocnn.  I^ft,  instrument  benches,  operators  at 
■work.  Right,  manager's  desk.  John  Julius  Casar 
Umith  seated  at  a  table  writing.  Antony  Brown,  Le- 
pidus  Patrick,  and  other  officers  standing  near. 

Ccesar:  These  billets  give  to  operators  Hans  and  Os- 

stricli, 

And  tliis  to  Shrub,  the  substitute.    The  plugs  are 

getting  careless  [reminder ; 

With  their  number  sheets,  and  need  some  strong 

Call  Brutus  Armature. 

Anton'j  :   What,  ho  !  there— Armature  ! 

L.  Jhtriik :  Brutus  !  you're  wanted. 
[Brutus  comes  foru<a)-d  to  the  table]. 

Ccesar:  Here  is  a  "copy  of  a  message  you  received 
A  year  ago  last  fall.     The  error's  plain  enough 
And  stands  to  your  account.      The  amount  is 

seven  dollars. 
You  cannot  raise  the  money  on  your  Ulster 
As  that's  already  pledged  to  Patrick 
For   various   other   errors ;  and    therefore,    the 

amount 
Shall  be  deducted  from  vour  monthly  pay 
In  three  installments.     This  will  pinch  you  hard, 
But  yet  you  still  may  live  by  strict  economy, 
And  let  us  hope  the  lesson  will  have  a  good  effect 
Upon  your  carelessness  hereafter. 

Brutus:  Caesar,  I  have  made  no  bull;  the  mistake  is 
none  of  mine. 

CcBsar:  No  more,  vou  may  retire.    Now,  Antony, 
Where  is  this  bold  and  artful  son  of  Grimes  V 

Antony:  Here,  Cresar.     [Sculpin  is  led  forward]. 

Coesar:    Drag  him  before  us.       You  are    messenger 
number  forty-two. 

Sculpin:  Ay,  CiEsar. 

Ccesar :  You  are  accused  of  passing  upon  our  guileless 
And  unsuspecting  cashier,  a  counterfeit  scrip 
In  lieu  of  better  money  that  you  received 
In   payment  for  a  message.     You  answer  for  it, 
Lepidus  ? 

L.  Ihtrick :  Caesar,  I  do  ;  here  is  the  bogus  quarter. 

Hculpin :  Nay,  Caesar,  I  have  passed  uo  counterfeit 
money  ; 
Lepidus  Patrick  is  mine  enemy  ; 
Because  I  did  refuse  to  carry  home  his  washing 
One  rainy  night  last  week,  he  swore  to  be  re- 
venged. 
The  scrip  that  he  accuses  me  of  giving  him 
Is  one  he  made  himself. 

Casar :   Hash  and  misguided  youth,  will  falsehood 
aught  avail  thee '? 
Refund  the  money,  ay,  and  quickly,  too. 
Or  else  imprisonnient  shall  be  thy  doom. 
{Enter  Grimes],  [force— 

Antony:  Here  comes  old  Grimes,  the  Nestor  of  our 
This  youthful  rascal's  grandsire. 

Crimes:  What  mean  these  loud  complaints, 
That  reach  me  in  mine  underground  abode 
Of  ineflicient-batteries  V    Where  is  the  vitrol 
That  I  have  asked  for,  lo  !  these  many  days     [me 
"VVhich  comes  not  to  our  asking  V    Wouldst  have 
Wake  thy  brick  (as  did  the  Israelites  of  old) 
And  furnish  mine  own  straw  !  [fore  us 

Ccesar:  Grimes,  your  grandson  las  been  brought  be- 
For  passing  spurious  scrip  upon  the  cashier. 

Orimes:  What !  Sculpin  1     Why,  the  lad 

Is  the  very  prop  of  my  son's,  that  is,  his  father's 

old  age. 
I  have  known  him  Intimately  for  eleven  years. 
And  only  do  him  justice  when  I  say 
That  Sculp  would  never  taken  a  single  thing 
He  could  not  lay  his  hands  on.    I  dare  be  sworn 
He  passed  no  bogus  scrip  on  yonder  skinflint. 

L.  Patrick:  How  ?    What  says  the  dotard  V 

Crimes:  Oh,  do  not  seek  to  fright  me  with  thy  frown. 
You  are  a  summer's  dandelion  that  has  sprouted 

here 
"Within  my  recollection.      Why,  man,  I  was  an 
operator  [riage. 

Before  your  grandsire  had  even  thought  of  mar- 

CcESar :  Goes  your  memory  back  so  far,  old  man  ? 


Crimes.-  Memory?    Why  I  can  remember  when  Pro- 
fessor Morse  [most  noble  sir, 

Was  but  a  ragged  messenger  boy.    Ay,  and  you. 

Began  your  schooling  here  as  my — 
Ccesar :  Silence  !  Away  with  him  !  remove  them  both. 

Scene  III.  [Tlie  same.    A  2)assageway  leading  to  the  vpper 
.itaircase.     Eider  Pliers  and  a  message  boy]. 

Pliers :  Here,  Skip,  run  to  the  corner  shoe  store  ; 
Stay  not  to  scratch  thy  head,  but  go  at  once. 
Why  dost  thou  stare  at  me  so  foolishly  V    [form  ? 

Boy:  Good  Pliers,  being  there,  what  deed  shall  I  per- 

Plicrs :  Alas  !  too  true  ;  I  had  forgot  to  tell  thee. 

Here,  bestow  this  roll  of     scrip  with  neighbor 

Bootlace, 
And  bid  him  send  to  me  the  overshoes  I  looked  at. 
I  would  have  them  ere  Csesar  goes  to  dinner. 
Come,  be  off;  there's  millions  in  it. 

Boy :  Millions  in  it  ?     When  I  have  got  the  scrip 

Suppose  I  fail  and  pay  but  ten  cents  on  the  dollar. 

Pliers :  Fail  ?    In  Smith's  Manual  of  Telegraphy 
There  is  no  such  word  as  fail.    Away  ! 
I'll  wait  for  thee  down  in  the  second  corridor, 
But  fail  me  and  this  hour  you'll  surely  rue. 
My  quick  promotion  hangs  upon  a  shoe. 

\Exit  Pliers  and  boy]. 

Enter  a  reporter  for  the  Journal  of  the  Telegraph]. 

Hep :  Here  will  I  stand  till  Caesar  goes  to  dinner. 
And  as  a  Soothsayer  will  I  give  him  warning 
Of  this  disgraceful  and  injurious  plot. 

[E7Uer  Cu!sar  and  train,  Antony  Brown,  Lepidus 
Ihtrick,  Brutus  Armature,  Casa  B.  Anchor,  Indigo, 
Ostrich,  Shrub,  Uans,  and  a  crowd  of  operators  fol- 
low i)ig]. 

Pep :  Cajsar. 

Ca!sar:  Hark  !  some  one  did  call  me. 

Antony:  What,  ho  !  let  every  hoof  keep  silent. 

Ccesar :  Who  is  it  in  the  corridor  that  calls  me. 
I  heard  a  voice  louder  than  forty  sounders 
Cry  Cajsar.    Speak  :  the  Big  Ingun's  here. 

Pep :  Beware  the  banister  stairs. 

Ccesar:  What  loafer's  that?  [Caesar, 

Casa.  B:  A  Reporter  for  the  Journal  of  the  Telegraph, 
Bids  thee  beware  of  the  banister  stairs. 

Ccesar:  Let  him  approach  ;  make  room  for  him. 

Casa  B.:    Come  forward,  stranger,  don't  be  bashful, 

JIayis :  Take  your  hat  off.  [period. 

Ccesar:  Now,  then,   what  is  it  you  say?     Go  ahead 

Pep :  Beware  the  banister  stairs. 

Ccesar:  He's  drunk.     Let  us  leave  him  and  pass  on  ; 
And  you,  Lepidus,  send  for  a  policeman 
And  have  him  taken  care  of. 

L.  Patrick :  It  shall  be  done,  my  lord. 

Ca!sar :  Antonius  ! 

Antony:  Caesar. 

Ccesar :  Let  me  have  men  about  me  that  are  clean  ; 
Well  barbered  men,  and  such  as  wear  white  shirts 
Yond  Casa  has  a  damp  and  moldy  look  ; 
His  hat  is  badly  battered  ;  And  I'll  be  sworn 
The  soiled  paper  collar  he  has  on 
He's  worn  ere  since  last  pay-day. 
His  clothing  fits  him  not,  and  bears  about  it 
An  ancient  odor,  reminding  you  of  benzine  or 

Antony :  Phosphate  ? 

C'(B,sa)- ;  Ay,  such  men  are  dangerous. 

Antony :  He  is  dangerous  ;  trust  him  not,  Caesar, 
He  is  an  ignoble  showman. 

Ccesar :  I  never  trust ;  but  if  I  were  in  the  trusting  bus- 
iness, [trust 
I  do  not  know  the  man  whom  I  would  not  sooner 
Than  this  damp  Casa. 
{Exeunt  Caisar  and  train.     Brutus,  Indigo,  Bans,  Ostrich, 
and  Shrub  remain  behind]. 

Brutus :  I  know  not  what  vou  and  all  the  other  boys 
May  think  of  this  Great  Mogul,  [about  hmi. 

But  tor  mine  own  part  I  am  ashamed  to  fawn 
And  feed  upon  the  cruras  he  throws  to  us. 
I  call  myself  as  good  a  man  as  Caesar ;  so  do  you  ; 
We  both  can  send  as  well ;  and  we  can  both 
Receive  a  sheet  of  press  as  well  as  he. 
For  I  remember  once  upon  election  day 
When  business  was  most  brisk,  aad  all  the  hooka 


THE  CARNIVAL   OF  OSUKOSU. 


133 


Were  running  o'er  with  specials  ;  Caesar  said  to  me, 

Rush  it,  JDrutus,  strike  a  lively  gait ; 

And  so,  indeed,  I  did.    The  lightning 

Flashed  from  both  our  relays  ;  and  the  speed, 

Althousjh  I  did  not  time  it,  might  have  averaged 

Some  forty  words  a  minute. 

But  ere  I'd  salted  him  for  half  an  hour, 

Ca;sar  wrote.  Let  up,  Brutus,  or  I  break, 

I,  as  John  Milliken,  our  great  champion, 

Did  with  his  index  finger  pat  the  key 

"While  sending  day  report,  so  did  I  go  slow 

For  tired  CKsar,  and  this  plug 

Has  now  become  our  boss  ;  and  Brutus 

Must  put  his  corns  into  his  pocket 

If  Caesar  carelessly  but  tread  ou  them. 

[Shout  within]. 

Indigo :  He  went  a  fishing  when  he  was  down  east- 
Went  in  a  crowded  steamboat  to  the  Shoals  ; 
And  I  did  mark,  when  the  swell  was  on, 
How  he  grew  seasick.  Ye  gods,  our  boss  was  sea- 

siclc  ' 
The  chowdered  clam  did  from  his  stomach  fly  ; 
Ay,  and  that  tongue  of  his,  whose  slightest  accent 
Starts  the  trembling  plug  into  a  nervous  fever, 
Alas  !  it  cried  Oh  !  Captain,  do  stoj?  the  boat. 
Our  captain  was  a  jovial  son  of  Neptune, 
Who  tumbled  to  the  joke  :  aijd  by  his  order 
The  colored  stewardess,  her  fat  sides 
Shaking  with  immoderate  laughter,  came 
And  led  him  down  below. 
{Another  shout.) 

Uruius:  What  means  this  shouting  ? 

i>h)-ub:  The  lady  operators,  no  doubt,  have  halted 
Ctesar, 
As  they  proposed  to  do  this  very  noon, 
And  crown  his  brow  with  Mayflowers. 

[Elder  Casa  B.  Anchor']. 
Brutus:  Well,  Casa,  what's  all  this  row  down  in  the 

lower  entry  ? 
Casa  B. :  Why,  Caesar's  friends  offered  him  a  present 

That  he  refused,  and  his  enemies  gave  him  a  fall 

That  he  accepted. 
Jmligo :  Who  offered  him  a  present  ? 
Casa  B. :  The  noble  Pliers ;  thrice  he  offered  him 

A  pair  of  gilt-edged  overshoes. 

And  thrice  he  tried  to  put  them  on. 

But  each  time  gave  it  o'er  ;  they  were 

Too  small  for  his  big  feet. 
Hans :  And  who  gave  him  the  fall  ? 
Casa  B. :  Why,  Tom  and  Jerry  ;  you  know  they  had 
the  trap  set. 

The  stairs  were  thickly  covered  o'er  with  grease 

Which  Caesar  might  have  noticed  ; 

But  hurrying:  to  escape  a  crowd  of  girls. 

Who  wished  to  crown  him  with  some  lilacs, 

The  tyrant  slipped  upon  tDe  foremost  stair, 

And  fell  from  top  to  bottom. 
Ostrich  :  And  then  ? 
Casa  B. :  And  the  female  operators  made  a  rush, 

All  sliding  down  together,  screaming  all, 

And  crowned  him  as  he  lay.     But  when 

Upon  examination  it  was  found 

That  he  was  senseless,  the  girls  cried  out 


Oh !  what  a  dreadful  shame!    Antonio  Brown, 

Lepidus  Patrick,  Pliers,  and  some  others 

Conveyed  him  on  a  shutter  to  his  house. 

And  more  than  that,,  our  comrades,  Tom  and  Jerry, 

Their  clothing  all  besmirched  with  pariflane 

Have  been  arrested  on  suspicion. 
Brutus:  Alas!  poor  Tom. 
Indigo:  And  Jerry  ;  both  in  durance  vile  ; 

[Aside]. 

I,  faith,  I'll  let  them  tarry  there  awhile. 

[Enter  G rimes]. 
Shrub :  Yonder  comes  old  man  Grimes— mark  his  pale 
face. 

His  eyes  are  rolling  horribly. 
Grimes:  Sculpin  !  Sculpin !  come,  they  shall  not  get 
you. 

Your  grandad  will  protect  you,  boy,  ho  !  ho  ! 

I'll  hide  you  in  a  cask  of  vitrol ;  so  ! 
Brutus :  He  raves  ;  his  wits  are  gone. 
Ostrich:  The  manager's  severity  to  his  grandson 

Hath  set  the  old  man  crazy. 
Indigo :  How  fares  it  with  you,  Uncle  ? 
Grimes :  Hist !  they  come  ;  crawl  in  my  rubber  boots. 

They  must  be  large  enough  to  hide  a  message  boy. 

The  scoundrels  made  me  pay  a  quarter,  Sculpin, 

The  seventh  part. of  all  my  yearly  earnings  ; 

But  I  will  cheat  the  hungry  rascals  yet, 

It  was  another  counterfeit. 
Indigo :  Grimes,  dost  thou  not  know  me  ?  Come, 

Tell  us,  where  is  poor  Sculpin  ? 
Grimes :  Ask  Caesar ;  first  he  made  me  chalk  up. 

And  then  put  Sculpin  in  the  lockup. 

[Falls]. 
Indigo:  Goodness  !  he's  fainted;  here,  help  me  raise 

him,  somebody. 
Ostrich:  Throw  water  on  him. 
Brutus :  How  feel  you  now,  old  man  ? 
Grimes :  I  feel  like  a  morning  star.  [Dies]. 

Jjidigo :  He's  dead. 
Hans :   Dead  as  a  boiled  lobster. 
All:  i^ingiiuj]. 

Old  Grimes  is  dead,  otir  battery  man-. 
He  was  an  airful  bore  ; 
He  used  to  wear  blue  overalls 
Whe7i  moping  up  the  floor. 
When  moping  up  the  float — 
He  always  drank  his  share  of  beer. 
But  never  paid  the  score. 

He  alicays  worked  till  late  at  night 
Tliough  he  was  up  betimes, 
The  battery  cups  we)-e  always  full 
And  so  was  Uncle  Grimes. 
And  so  was  Uncle  Grimes — 
He  ne'er  refused  to  take  ajndl 
Jf  some  one  planked  t/ie  dimes. 

He  listed  in  the  light  dragoons, 
And  fought  at  Waterloo; 
He's' taken  many  a  battery  (down) 
And  many  an  oyster  stew. 
And  many  an  oyster  stew — 
Where  all  our  stray  tobacco  went 
We  always  thought  he  knew. 


[Exexint.] 


ACT    II 


Scene  1.     [The  lower  corridor.    Shouts  and  noise  without. 
Enter  Indigo  and  Hans  meeting.] 

Indigo:  Well,  have  you  been  successful  ? 
I    Hans :  Ay,  rest  you  easy  there.     Upon  the  street 
Just  now,  I  did  stir  up  a  hornet's  nest ; 
The  bees  will  swarm  anon,  and  then  will  I 
Here  on  the  stairs  speak  further  to  them 
Of  this  high-handed  wrong  to  Brutus  done; 


Ere  night  I  hope  to  see  proud  Caesar  strung. 
Indigo:  Ostrich,  Casa  B.,  and  Shrub,  the  substitute. 
With  certain  others,  have  gone  to  meet  the  nighl 

force 
As  they  come  from  their  work. 
But,  look  you,  Hans,  I  would  be  careful 
Not  to  call  names  aloud  ;  and  when  you  speak 
Of  Caesar,  do  not  cry  him  through  the  town 
Nor  make  your  meaning  too  direct  and  broad, 


134 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


But  rather  l>'t  it  bo  ninbitjunu? — sec? 

Desii^natc  him  in  soiuc  such  way  as  this: 
"  The  black-eyed  Roman  with  Oie  earjk's  beak 

Between  those  eyes  that  ne'er  beheld  a  conqueror.'" 
Mans:  I  will  rcmembur:  softly,  here  they  come. 
[Enter  a  crowd  of  o/xrators  aniu;d  with  stuffed  clubs, 

■umbrellas,  base  bull  bats,  and  other   unplemcnts  of 
ancient  and  niodcrn  tvarfare.] 
1st  Opo-ator:  Brutus  Armature !  What  ho,  Brutus  ! 
2d  Operator:    Down  with  the  manager ! —rout  him 

out. 
Hans:  Brothers,  lioar  me  once  again. 
M  Opn-ator:  A  rintr !  a  riu^  !— keep  quiet  all 

We'll  hoar  the  rest  of  this. 
Hans :  I  know  you  all  do  luvc  the  noble  Brutus, 

For  when  did  ever  he  refuse  to  sub 

For  thirty  cents  an  hourV 
4th  Operator:  Never!  llans,  never! 
5lh  Operator:  What  are  the  charges  'gainst  him? 
Hans:  They  tried  to  make  him  own  another  bull; 

And  when  he  told  the  accusers  that  they  lied, 

They  straight  relieved  him  on  the  quadruples, 

And,  rumor  says,  he  is  to  be  discharged. 
cd  Operator:  We'll"  not  submit  to  it ! 
5lh  Operator:  Down  with  tlie.oliicers  ! 
2d  Operator:  Haze 'em!  haze 'em! 
Hans :  Good ;  let  us  go  together  as  one  man 

And  right  our  several  injuries. 
1st  Operator:  Who  shall  we  begin  with? 
Hans:  Let  the  first  victim  be  Ambiguous: 

"  The  black-eyed  3Iornion  vjitfi  such  fearful  cheek 
JSttwcen  those  eyes  that  ne'er  beheld  a  cucumbcr.^^ 

Indigo:  [Aside]  Oh,  ye  immortal  gods! 

i'Ji  Operator:  There  !  there's  a  man  for  you,  boys. 

Why,  the  lad  has  all  the  poets  by  heart. 

And  quotes  them  as  easily  as  I  can  sing  Mother 
Goose. 
Zd  Operator :  And  shall  we  kill  Lcpidus  Patrick,  too  ? 
5th  Operator :  Lcpidus  is  a  good  man. 
Luligo:  Lepidus  Patrick?— down  with  Lcpidus  Pat- 
trick  ! 

Why,  lads,  'tis  he  who  holds  our  money  back, 

And  makes  us  pay  a  grievous  rate  of  interest 

For  using  our  own  funds,     ilc  marks  the  times 

And  says,  forsooth,  the  company  is  poor; 

Ecpudiutes  its  honest  oliligation; 

And  faith,  I  think,  if  he  could  have  his  way, 

The  cur  would  water  all  our  national  stock. 

W'hat!   shall  we  take  our  honest  dues  in  due  bills 

And  dirty  promissory  notes  ? 
2d  Operator:  Enough!  say  no  more;  he  dies. 
4th  Operator:  What  about  Antony  Brown? 
Indigo:  Antoniusis  smart — hni? widespread  notoriety. 

lie  is  an  operator,  I'll  admit;  and  handles  wires 

Better  than  any  man  of  all  our  force; 

But,  then,  he  does  it  for  Antonius  Brown,  not  us ; 

He  is  no  tribune,  standing  for  our  rights 

Against  oppression  ;  he  is  for  himself. 

He  strikes  a  happy  medium  'twixt  coiTuption  and 

reform, 
And  calls  it  no  ill-wind  that  blows  him  any  good. 
Sd  Operator:  Chalk  him  down;  he's  the  worst  rat  in 

the  hole. 
1st  Operator:  Indigo  is  right,  as  he  always  is. 
2d  Ojjcrator:  For  my  part  I  think  Indigo  should  be 

manager. 
nth  Operator:  Or  he  or  Bratus  Armature. 
Indigo:  Talk  you  of  Brutus— Brutus  Armature? 

SVhj-,  he  is  out  of  favor,  out  of  fashion. 

He  will  not  Hatter  C';csar;  speaks  his  mind 

About  oppression,  dishonesty  and  wrong; 

Therefore,  doth  (,';esar  pass  him  coldly  by; 

Tlie  chiefs  regard  him  Avitli  suspicious  frown  ; 

And  you,  good  friends,  forgetful  of  his  merit — 
1st  Operator:  Not  so;  we  think  tlie  hoy  will  suit  us; 

Proud  Ciesar's  rule  we  here  adjure  ; 

Lads,  altogether  once,  for  Brutus  ! 
Operators:  Kah  for  Brutus  Armature! 

[Enter  Antony  Brovm  and  Lejndus  Ihtriek. 


od  Operator:  Ilcre    come  the  tyrants  ;  now  keep  to- 
gether, boys. 
5th  Opei-ator :  Oh,  don't  get  behind  me. 
4th  Operator :  Stand  !  Antony  ;  we  would  investigate 

you. 
Antony :  What  is  the  trouble  now — you  noisy  plugs  ? 
3d  Operator:   Oh,  come  ;  you're  no  great  shakes. 
4th  O2)erator:  You'll  find  we  can  pound  something  be- 
sides brass. 
2d  Operator :  And  sling  something  besides  ink. 
'id  Operator :  Better  cut  out  while  you  may. 
Antony :  What's  this — another  strike  ? 
1st  Operator:  Ay,  a  strike  from  the  shoulder, 
L.  Patrick:  Come,  lads,  tell  us  what's  the  matter. 

If  we  have  done  you  wrong  in  any  way 

It  shall  be  rectified. 
4tJi  02)trator :  AVhat  have  you  done  to  noble  Brutus 
Armature  ? 

Answer  me  that ! 
2d  Operator :  Or  we  shall  adjust  you. 
\st  Operator:  Ay,  and  salt  you. 
3d  Operator :  Ay,  and  ground  you. 
Antony :  Why,  Brutus  is  all  right.    He  was  but  rep- 
rimanded 

And  soon,  no  doubt,  will  get  his  wire  back 

If  he  but  keep  his  tongue  still. 
L.  Pcdrick :  Now,  mark  me  ;  this  rebellious  attitude 

Becomes  you  not ;  nor  have  you  honest  reason 

For  discontent,  being  treated  well  and  fairly. 

Our  corporation  represents  a  tree; 

Commencing  in  the  ground  it  spreads  its  growth 

O'er  all  this  mighty  land.     You  arc  the  branches. 

The  harvest,  unto  which  we  all  contribute, 

The  united  product  of  our  several  labors 

Must  to  the  mother  stock  be  all  accredited ; 

But  every  bough  receives  his  share  of  benefits. 

And  draws  his  sustenance  from  out  the  common 
trunk. 

Each  one  according  to  his  yield  and  fruitage. 

And  every  limb  which  beareth  not  good  fruit 

Is  pruned  and  east  away. 
Ajitony :  Very  well  spoken— what  eay  you  to  it? 

You,  the  black  knot  of  this  fair  cherry  tree. 
Indigo  :  I,  the  black  knot ! 
Antony :  You  :  for  your  discontent  and  rottenness 

Not  only  impairs  your  own  usefulness. 

But  the  contagion  spreads  to  all  your  neighbors, 

And  you.  Sir  (Jurciilio 

Hans :  Curculio  ! 

Ajitony :  Ay,  for  you  wither  all  the  fruit  you  touch  ; 

In  other  words,  my  friend,  you  are  a  plug  ; 

And  every  message  passing  through  your  hands 

Is  likely  to  receive  some  strange  addition. 

Or  vicious  matter  foreign  to  the  text. 

Marring  its  ])urity;  and,  like  a  blighted  plum, 

It  soon  breeds  mischief.  [Clock  strikes]. 

Hark  !  'tis  eight  o'clock ;  your  desks  await  you. 
[Exeunt  edl  but  Lejndus  anel  Antony'\. 
L.  Patrick :  Is  it  true  that  our  company  has  gobbled 

the  A  &  P.? 
jhdo^iy :  No,  and  never  will  be.    The  story  serves  a 
purpose  ; 

It  lesesns  public  confidence  in  opposition 

And  raises  the  price  of  stock. 
L.  Patrick :  We  have  some  shrewd  advisers  in  the  me- 
tropolis. 

Come,  shall  wc  go  in  ?  [Exeunt.] 

SCETsE  XL  Operating-room.  Cashier^s  desk  in  front,  mana- 
ger's desk  in  rear ;  instrument  tables  right  iind  left 
center.  Operators  at  viork ;  Quill,  the  bookkeej^er, 
seated  at  casltier's  des-k  writing.  Ccesar,  Antony 
Brown,  Lepidus  Pitrick,  and  Pliers  stamling  in  front 
ofnuinagcr's  desk], 
Coesar:  I  think  as  you  do,  that  the  surly  knaves 

Have  had  more  kindness  shown  them   than  is 

]ir>ulent; 
Receiving  favors  when  they  merit  kicks. 
They  soon  learn  to  presume  on  our  good  nature. 
And  grow  unmindful  of  our  high  authority. 


THE  CARNIVAL  OF  OSUKOSU. 


V6f) 


Such  mode  of  treating  these  rebellious  curs 
Is  not  consistent  with  the  general  policy. 
So  do  we  err  wherein  we  overfeed  them  ; 
They  have  full  fifteen  minutes  for  their  dinner — 
It  should  be  ten  ;  and  then  their  monthly  pay, 
If  rightly  portioned  out,  would  not  allow  them 
To  feast  on  meats  and  other  hearty  victuals. 
If  we  would  rule  these  miscreants,  we  must 

starve  them  ; 
But  speak  of  this  hereafter.    I  have  been 
Commissioned  to  appoint  from  out  our  force 
Some  one  of  merit,  honor,  and  discretion. 
Well  versed  in  lineman's  and  repairer's  duties, 
To  take  control  of  all  our  outside  work  ; 
And  I  do  know  but  one  who's  competent 
In  every  way  for  such  responsibilitj-. 
Noble  Pliers,  my  choice  doth  fall  on  thee  ; 
Henceforth  be  thou  our  Foreman  of  Repairs. 

Quill:  [Afide]  Now,  won't  this  rooster  go  and  put  on 
airs. 

"ist.  Operator:  A  speech,  Pliers. 

Operators :  Speech  !  speech  ! 

Pliers:  {Takes ixiper  from  hisjiockct  and  reads.} 

Kind  friends,  my  heart  is  in  a  lump  ; 
JPass  hij  mc  this  time  I  beseech  : 
For  though  Fm  sometimes  on  the  stump, 
I  make  a  belter  splice  than  speech. 
A  well-done  joint  is  my  best  hold : 
77iough  you  prefer  your  steady  roast. 
In  rain  and  sunshine,  storm  and  cold, 
You'll  find  me  always  at  my  post. 

But  this  won't  do  ;  excuse  me,  sirs, 
For  I  must  go  and  win  my  spurs. 
[Fliers,  Antony,  and  Lcjjidiis  retire  in  consultation. 
C(£sar  comes  forward  to  cashkr''s  desk.] 

Ccesar:    How  come  you   on  with  last  week's  sum- 
mar  j'  ?  • 
Quill :  Csesar,  well ;  there's  no  discrepancy 
Between  my  figures  and  this  last  report — 
Lepidus  Patrick  is  a  good  accountant. 
Ccesar :  Where  is  the  cash  book  ? 
Quill :  Cpesar,  but  now  I  laid  it  on  the  desk 
Within  your  private  office,  as  you  asked 
For  the  sum  total  of  our  gross  receipts.  '' 
Voisar :  Go,  bring  it  hither ;  I  will  count  the  money 
Here  in  the  cash  box  and  compare  the  sums. 
[Exit  Quill.  Brutus,  Indigo,  Casa  B.,  Hans,  Ostrich, 
and  Shrub  come  forward  together  and  stand  on 
left  of  cashier's  desk.] 

Indigo :  Have  all  of  you  your  register  weights  ? 

Hans :  We  are  all  prepared  and  ready. 

Brutus :  You,  Casa,  must  secure  the  money. 
Come,  who  speaks  first  V 

Ostrich :  Great  Ciesar,  my  washing  bills  are  overdue 
Old  Bridget  threatens  to  trustee  my  wages, 
And  holds  my  raiment  as  collateral  security 
For  what  I  owe  her.    I  pray  you  let  me  have 
Two  dollars  on  account  to  keep  her  quiet. 

Ccesar :  Away! — one  is  eighty-three  and  two  are  eighty- 
five. 

Ostrich :  What !  not  two  dollars  ? 

C(£sar :  And  ten  are  ninety-live,  and   five  are  a  hun- 
dred— 
No  !  not  a  soumarkee. 

Indigo :  Cffisar,  can  I  draw  three  dollars  on  account  ? 

Ccesar:  No,  my  gladiator  ;  wait  till  pay-day  comes. 

Brutus :  I  crave  your  pardon,  Ctesar,  but  my  wants 
Are  pressing,  my  exchequer's  low. 

Ccesar :  Come,  be  off  ;  you're  troublesome. 

JShrub :  For  just  one  dollar,  Cffisar,  do  I  humbly  beg. 

Ccesar :  What !  doth  not  Brutus  scripless  squeal  ? 

Casa  B.:  {Siezing  the  cash-box)  Speak,  Hans,  for  me. 

[Hans  hits  Ccesar  on  the  nose  with  a  register  weight. 
Ccesar  retaiiates  with  an  irikstand  and  prepares 
to  follow  it  uj)  with  the  stove  jioker,  w/ten  he  is 
struck  by  several  other  conspirators,  and  last  of 
all  by  Brutus  Armature.]  \ 


Caesar;  And  thou  too,  brute  !  ass  !   [Dies.     The  operat- 
ors and  message  boys  retire   in  confusion,  and 
general  disorder  ensues.] 
Ostrich :  "  To  the  victors  belong  the  spoils  " — 

How  much  money  is  there,  Casa  ? 
Hans:  Look  here,  Shrub,  this  overcoat  of  Coesar's 

Could  hardly  fit  me  better  on  the  back 

If  I,  myself,  had  stood  the  model  for  it. 

And    here's  a  handkerchief  —  it   smells  of    ess. 
bouquet ; 

This  Cffisar  had  some  style  about  him. 
Shrub :   These  boots  are  awful  large ;   I've  heard  it 
said 

That  CjBsar's  feet  did  never  get  their  growth 

Till  he  was  thirty-seven  years  of  age. 
Hans :  Chiistopher !  if  his  brain  had  thus  developed 

He  would  have  been  a  tearer,  no  mistake — 

How  doth  his  hat  become  me  ? 
Brutus:  Fellows,  do  not  run  ;  here  lies  our  game. 
Indigo :  We  have  hit  the  bulls-eye  fair  and  squarely 

And  want  no  meaner  mark. 
Brutus :  Stand  fast !  no  harm  is  threatened  you. 

In  this  fell  deed  you  see  but  retribution — 

Another  tyrant  offered  up  to  Freedom  : 

Your  Csesar  hath  but  paid  the  common  penalty 

Of  tyranny,  oppression,  and  misrule. 
Casa  B.:  Go  to  the  corridor,  Brutus,  and  explain — 

Speak  calmly  to  them — tell  them  of  our  wrongs. 

The  boys  are  badly  frightened. 

{Enter  Quill  and  Goaheadwith  a  white  flag). 
Brutus :  'WTio  comes  here  ? 
Ostrich :  Goahead,  wearing  a  white  signal 

For  some  one   following— 'tis  Quill,  the    book- 
keeper. 
Hans :  That  means  he  has  the  right  of  the  track  back 

again. 
Quill :  I  am  under  a  flag  of  truce. 
Brutus :  'Tis  superfluous — we  will  not  harm  thee. 

What  wouldst  thou  with  us  ? 
Quill:  Antony  would  know  if  he  may  come 

Here  to  the  scene  of  this  most  bloody  deed. 

And  listen  to  your  explanation. 

He  bid  me  say,  that  if  you  dared  to  meet  him 

In  open  argument  with  all  our  force  assembled — 

You  to  make  known  your  reasons  for  this  vio- 
lence. 

And  show  how  you  justify  your  action, 

The  crowd  to  be  the  umpires  of  debate — 

That  in  behalf  of  murdered  Cajsar,  he 

Will  answer  you  in  fair  and  moderate  discourse. 
Brutus:  What  answer  shall  we  make  ?    Antonius 
Brown 

By  vu-tue  of  his  rank  and  seniority 

Was  second  only  to  the  manager. 
Indigo  :  Of  all  the  planets  in  our  solar  system 

Great  Jupiter  is  first ;  yet  doth  he  shine 

But  as  a  mirror  in  the  sun's  refulgence  ; 

Which  being  darkened,  his  gigantic  bulk 

Would  vanish  in  obscurity. 

So,  Anton}-,  though  standing  near  the  throne, 

Did  but  reflect  the  power  of  mighty  Csesar  ; 

And  now  his  sun's  eclisped,  no  one  will  mark 
Brutus :  Go,  tell  Antonius  it  is  a  bargain.  [him 

He  may  come  here  and  argue  with  us 

As  to  the  justice  of  our  act  and  cause  ; 

The  congregated  force  shall  judge  between  us. 

And  we  will  bide  the  issue. 

[Exit  Quill  and  Goahead.] 
Shrub :  This  Antony  has  a  tongue  of  his  own  ; 

I  fear  he'll  make  it  warm  for  all  of  us. 
CasaB.:  Bah  !  he's  overrated  ;  and  the  chances 

Are  ten  to  one  he  dare  not  speak  at  all — 

See,  here  he  comes— Brutus  will  talk  him  blind. 

[Re-enter  Antony,  Lepidus,  Quill,  Goahead,  and  a 
crowd  of  operators,  linemen,  messengers,  and 
other  employes], 

Antony :  Oh,  what  a  sad  and  dreadful  sight  is  here.  - 
Alas  !  poor  Ctesar —  [ness ; 

Brutus :  Come,  stop  that  sniveling  and  attend  to  busi- 
You  can  howl  afterward. 


138 


LIGHTNING   FLASHES. 


Antony :  Oh,  horrors  !  here,  let  me  say  two  words. 
Uniius:  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  after  me  is  mauners. 
1st.  Operator:  We'll  hear  Brutus  speak. 

{Brutus  goes  to  the  platform  in  front  of  tlie  mana- 
ger''a  desk.^ 

Ostrich :  One  at  a  time  ;  they'll  last  the  longer. 
Now,  all  keep  silence. 

Brutus:  Operators,  countrymen,  and  plugs. 

If  there  Is  any  one  here  to  whom  Caesar  owed 
any  money,  to  him  I  say  that  my  loss  is  no 
less  than  his.  If,  then,  you  would  know  why 
I  put  a  head  on  him,  this  is  my  answer — not 
that  I  loved  Cajsar  less,  but  that  I  loved  green- 
backs more.  Had  you  rather  Caesar  were  liv- 
ing and  all  die  in  the  poorhouse,  than  that 
Caesar  were  dead  and  greenbacks  plenty 
as— as  Bill  Allen's  scheme  could  make  them  ? 
Cnesar  was  a  lunkhead,  and  I  despised  him  ; 
he  was  a  deadhead,  and  I  hated  him  ;  he  was 
a  copperhead,  and  I  feared  him  ;  he  was  a 
saphead,  and  I  slew  him.  He  thought  we  had 
not  the  courage  to  resist  our  wrongs  ;  he 
used  us  but  as  stepping-stones  to  his  vile  am- 
bition ;  and  this  same  sliding-scale,  so  odious 
and  oppressive  to  you  all,  was  planned  by  him 
ere  first  it  was  suggested.  There  is  a  penny 
for  his  thoughts,  a  fig  for  his  ambition,  and 
a  weight  for  his  sliding-scale.  Who  is  here  so 
base  that  would  rectify  old  ciTor  sheets  ?  If 
any,  speak  ;  for  him  have  I  offended.  Who  is 
here  so  vile  that  would  eat  his  dinner  in  five 
minutes,  for  the  dyspepsia  and  seven  dollars 
a  week  ?  If  any,  speak  ;  for  him  have  I  of- 
fended. 

L.  Patrick  :  I  would,  for  one. 

Brutus :  You're  nobody  ;  so  nobody  have  I  offended. 
I  have  done  no  more  to  Caesar,  this  morning, 
than  Caesar  has  been  doing  to  you  (by  inches) 
these  many  years.  The  question  of  his  death 
is  enrolled  in  Tue  Opekatok— copies  of  which 
can  be  procured  at  the  newstand  and  at  the 
door.  Students,  and  operators  under  fifteen 
years  of  age,  not  admitted  unless  furnished 
with  an  honorable  discharge  by  the  president 
of  this  company. 

Indigo :  All  you  fellers  that  join  our  party 

Come  to  the  battery-room  and  gel  your  scrip  ; 
The  whole  amount  shall  be  divided. 

Casa  B.:  Come  on,  boys,  to  the  battery-room. 

Operators :  Rally  'round  the  cash  box. 

[Exeunt  conspirators,  followed  by  some  of  the  opera- 
tor $."1 

Antony :  This  murderous  wrong  hath  quite  unmanned 
me. 
Quill,  go  you  and  answer  Brutus. 

Quill :  Not  so',  my  friend  ;  1  never  made  a  speech  ; 
If  any  of  these  roosters  want  to  bet, 
I  am  their  hairpin. 

!^th  Operator :  Speak,  Antony. 

W/t  Operator :  We'll  hear  the  other  side  of  this  ques- 
tion. 

Antony :  My  worthy  friends,  the  noble  Brutus 
Uath  told  you  Caesar  was  a  copperhead  ; 
I  cannot  tell ;  his  vote  was  always  sold 
At  market  price,  regardless  of  the  ticket. 
But  that  he  was  a  lunkhead,  I  den}'. 
What  have  we  here  V— a  package  of  torn  scrip 
As  I'm  alive — the  rascals  did  o'erlook  it. 
Now,  look  you,  friends  ;  these  ragged  quarters 
The  banks  refused  to  take  upon  deposit ; 
And  Caesar,  ever  mindful  of  your  interests, 
Kesolvcd  to  liquidate  his  obligations 
To  you,  and  all  who  sign  our  monthly  pay-roll, 
By  paying  them  in  this  rejected  scrip. 
And  scrip  is  now  at  premium— I  think 
Some  three  cents  on  the  dollar.    In  this 
Did  Caesar  show  his  great  benevolence  ; 
But  Brutus  says  he  was  a  lunkhead  ; 


And  Brutus  is  a  first-class  man. 

Last  Fourth  of  July  he  gave  you  all  a  holiday — 

(Or  would,  if  Duxbury  had  not  objected) ; 

Did  this  in  Csesarseem  tyrannical  V 

Yet  Brutus  says  he  was  a  saphead ; 

And  Brutus  is  a  first-ciass  man. 

5th  Ojjerator :  Why,  how  now  fellers  ;  do  you  tumble 
to  it? 

Gth  Ojieratur :  Ay,  there  has  been  foul  play  here, 

"ith  Operator :  I  say,  as  I  always  did  ;  it's  a  bad  scrape. 

8th  Ojxrator :  Caesar  hath  been  most  vilely  used. 

Antony :  Why,  here  is  Caesar's  Avateh,  still  ticking  ; 
Behold  it.  view  this  nickel-plated  chain  ; 
That  it  did  'scape  the  hungry  villains'  search 
Is  something  wonderful.    I  recollect  the  time 
When  Caesar  and  myself,  with  cerlain  others, 
Went  on  a  bender  one  Thanksgiving  Day  ; 
And  when  our  several  pocket-books  weie  empty, 
And  naught  remained  of  all  our  monthly  pay, 
Caesar  did  coolly  pawn  both  watch  and  chaiu 
For  money  to  supply  his  wants  and  ours. 
Did  this  in  Caesar  show  a  niggard  spirit? 
Yet  Brutus  says  he  was  a  deadhead  ; 
And  certainly  he  is  a  first-class  man. 

'!th  Operator:  First-class  man  ! — he's  a  vile  plug. 

8/A  Operator :  Tear  him  to  pieces  !     Down  with  them 
all! 

Antony  :  Good  Friends 

bth  Operator :  Once  more,  attention  ! 

Antwty :  Let  me  tell  you  something  of  this  Brutus. 
He  went  a  gunning  when  he  worked  out  west, 
And  roamed  the  country  many  miles  around 
In  search  of  prairie  chickens  ;  but  at  night. 
As  he  went  trudging  home  Avith  empty  game-bag, 
Much  grieved  and  mortified  at  his  poor  luck, 
It  chanced  he  came  upon  a  squatter's  cabin 
Upon  the  outskirts  of  this  country  town  ; 
This  squatter  had  a  rooster,  tied  to  a  tree, 
With  which  he   tolled   his  wealthier  neighbors' 

hens. 
And  thereby  got  his  family  fresh  eggs 
Without  the  cost  of  hen-keeping. 
Now,  mark  me,  friends,  this  Brutus  Armature 
Did  shoot  the  honest  squatter's  rooster  dead  ; 
And  plucking  off  its  coat  of  brilliant  hue, 
He  tied  the  crower  to  his  empty  pouch  ; 
And,  as  Achilles  took  the  slaughtered  Hector 
To  grace,  perchance  to  grease,  his  chariot  wheels, 
So  mighty  Brutus  wore  his  trophy  home. 
And  sold  it  to  his  landlord  for  a  partridge. 
What  call  you  such  a  deed  as  that, 
My  brothers  all  ? 

Operators:  Murder  mo&t fowl! 

Sth  Operator  :  This  Brutus  is  a  bad  man. 

5th  Operator :  He  is  a  traitor  ;  so  are  all  his  gang  ! 

Operators:  Down  with  the  conspirators  ! 

\ Enter  Pliers.'] 

Pliers:  Most  noble  Antony  ;  Brutus  and  Indigo, 
With  all  the  members  of  his  bloody  ring. 
Together  with  a  crowd  of  their  admirers, 
Do  hold  carousal  in  the  battery-room. 
The  total  force  is  evenly  divided  ; 
One  half  the  number  being  discontented 
Have  rallied  'round  the  standard  of  these  traitors; 
The  other  half  stand  firm  for  law  and  order  ; 
And,  as  they  ask  for  vengeance  on  the  murderers, 
They  cry,  "  Ao  leader  will  we  have  but  Antony  ! 
Our  worthy  chief  and  manager  j^ro  tern." 

Cjth  Operator:  Antonlus  shall  be  our  general ! 
Long  live  Antony  Brown. 

Antony  .^  I  thank  you,  friends,  and  will  assume  the 
office 
Until  some  one  is  found  with  more  experience  ; 
Then  will  I  render  up  ray  charge  to  him 
And  join  you  in  the  ranks. 
Now,  then,  to  council,  organize,  and  plan  ; 
And  afterward  refresh  the  inner  man  ; 
The  best  fed  dog  is  like  to  prove  the  winner — 
Ferhaps  we'd  better  wait  till  after  dinner. 

[Exeunt.} 


/^y///. 


^...JSmmffz 


IIcDis:  This  Ovekcoat  o'  Cksah's  could  iiakdly  y\t  mk  iuctteh  on  tiik  hack  if  I 

MYSELF    HAD    STOOD    TllK    JK^DKL    I'Oli    IT. Aet    II.    Scene    2r?. 


THE  CARNIVAL   OF  OSHKOSH. 


137 


ACT    III. 


Scene  1.  {The  coat-room.  Enter  Indifjo  and  Ostrich,  at- 
tired in  gorgeoics  armor,  borrowed  for  the  occasion  at 
Booth's  Theater,  New  York.'[ 


Indigo : 


[02yeninj  a 


This  room  is  neutral  ground. 
closet.'] 

And  here  is  safe  concealment  for  a  spy. 

It  would  advantage  much  if  we  could  learn 

What  matter  Antony  doth  have  in  hand, 

And  if  he  purpose  to  attack  our  lines 

To-day,  or  wait  for  reinforcements. 

Most  valiant  Ostrich,  hide  your  portly  form 

Within  this  closet ;  keep  your  ears  wide  open  ; 

And  if  it  chance  that  any  of  their  force 

Do  hither  come  and  speak  of  what  is  brewing, 

Make  haste  to  join  us  in  the  battery-room 

And  render  your  report. 
Ostrich :  I  do  not  like  this  spying,  over  much  ; 

Do  you,  brave  Indigo,  attempt  the  part. 
Indigo:  Thou  knowest  I  have  got  that  upon  my  hands 

Which  must  not  be  neglected.    Get  you  in  ; 

The  boys  will  much  commend  you  for  your  brav- 
ery. 
Ostrich  :  I  do  not  like  it.    What  may  I  call  your  name, 

My  embryo  plug  ? 
Hoy:  Agamemnon,  sir. 

Ostrich :  I  know  thee  well ;  thou  art  both  wise  and 
valiant. 

Good  Agamemnon,  I  prayeth  thee  be  our  spy ; 

And  when  my  ship  comes  safely  into  port 

I  will  reward  thee. 
Boy :  Not  I,  good  sirs  ;  I  want  no  part  of  it. 
Indigo:  Such  childish  fears  but  ill  advance  your  in- 
terests. 

If  you  would  win  distinction  and  renown, 

Then  must  you  hazard  something  for  the  prize  ; 

Your  reputation  hangs  upon  your  deeds 

And  will  not  stand  without  them. 
Ostrich :  I  am  not  so  ambitious  to  be  great, 

But  would  be  healthy.     [  Goes  into  the  closet.] 
Indigo:  This  spice  of  risk  the  honor  but  enhances ; 

In  love  and  war  we  all  must  take  our  chances. 
[Enter  Reporter  for  the  Journal  of  the  Telegraph.] 
Hep. :  Good  morrow,  friend  ;   pray  tell  me  where  I'll 
find 

Your  worthy  manager.    My  errand  is  to  learn 

The  full  particulars  of  this  unpleasantness. 
Indigo :  Our  manager  ?    Alas  !  kind  sir^  he's  gone. 
Itep. :  Gone  !— gone  where  V 

Lidigo:  Why,   where  the  woodbine  twineth.     This 
very  morn 

Was  Caesar 

Rep. :  Caesar  V    I  spoke  of  Antony— Antonio  Brown. 
Indigo :  What  paper  are  you  on  ? 
Rep. :  I  am  for  the  Journal  of  the  Telegraph. 
Indigo:  The  Journal ! 

Hark  you,  Aggie  [Whispers  to  boy] 

Come,  will  you  do  it,  lad  ? 
Boy :  Aye,  sir,  never  trust  me  else. 
Indigo:  This  boy  will  bring  you  to  the  manager; 

Commend  me  to  his  kind  remembrance. 
Rep. :  I  am  much  beholden  to  you,  friend. 

[Eximt  Indigo,  reporter,  and  boy.    Enter  Lepidus 
Patrick,  Quill,  Goahead,  and  forces.] 

L.  Patrick :  Stand  !    Here  must  we  leave  videttes. 

Sergeant  Quill ! 
Quill :  Here  1  am. 
L.  Patrick :  Corporal  Goahead  ! 

Goahead:  Present.  [relieved. 

L.  Patrick:  You  two  will  guard  this  outpost  until 

No  skulking ;  keep  your  eyes  peeled  ; 

And  if  you  see  a  traitor,  shoot  hiin  first 

And  challenge  afterward.    Forward  ! 

[Exeunt  all  but  Quill  and  Goahead.] 
Quill:  This  is  dry  work.  Corporal  Goahead. 
.   Goahead :  1  care  not  how  dry  it  is.  Sergeant ; 

An'  it  be  not  dangerous  I  am  content. 


Quill:  We  are  more  like  to  die  of  thirst  than  powder. 

Lay  there,  old  trophy. 

[Throwing  down  his  mnsket.] 

I  will  be  back  anon.        [Exit.] 
Goahead:  [Sings] — 

If  a  lassie  tell  a  laddie 

That  he  is  rather  shy, 
Shcnild  that  laddie  kiss  that  lassie 

Or  crawl  in  some  pigsty  ? 
Every  wire  has  its  liar, 

None,  they  say,  is  Go, 
Yet  all  the  lads  are  doion  on  me 

Because  Pm  rather  slow. 

If  071  old  ^un  catch  a  young  'wn 

Salting  down  a  plug, 
Shcndd  he  take  him  up  and  sJutke  him, 

Or  put  him  in  the  jug? 
Oh,  these  clashes,  dots,  and  dashes, 

Pill  me  with  disgust ; 
And  all  the  fellers  growling  out, 

"  Why  don't  that  plug  adjust  ?  " 

Says  my  teacher  to  this  screecher. 

You  forgot  to  sign : 
You're  a  student,  so  you  shouldrft 

Meddle  with  the  line  ; 
Noiv  you're  breaking — oh,  Pm  quaking, 

What  a  dreadful  row  ; 
You  hadn't  ought  to  try  to  swim 

Till  after  you  learn  how. 

President  Eckeri's  in  the  rear  cart. 

Thereby  hangs  a  tale: 
President  Ortou,  not  forgotten. 

See  our  sliding-scale. 
On  the  circuit,  those  who  work  it 

Keep  me  in  disgrace  ; 
TJiey  say  I  always  iise  my  ground. 

And  never  stop  to  space. 

Roguei  are  thriving,  members  bribing, 

While  our  Congress  meets ; 
Some  conniving,  others  striving 

For  the  highest  seats. 
Just  remember,  next  November 

Wiiids  them  up  for  life  ; 
Ri7igs  a7id  parties  we'll  dismember 

In  the  cotni7ig  strife. 

[Re  e7iter  Quill  with  a  bottle.] 

Quill :  [Sings— J 

Raise  the  tmid  I  must — 

But  all  the  lads  steer  clear  of  me 

When  I  get  mt,  a  bust. 

Goahead :  What  have  you  got  there,  Sergeant  ? 

Quill:  I  have  drawn  upon  the  company's  supplies 
For  wet  rations.    This  is  something  like   [Sings] : 
There  is  one  pretty  comfort  when  all  others  fail. 
So  here's  to  thefiaggon  of  jolly  brown  ale, 
Tar7i  it  down.  [Dri7iks.] 

Goahead:  Give  us  some. 

Quill :  You  arc  a  temperance  man,  and  I  have  sworn 
To  give  no  aid  and  comfort  to  the  enemy. 

[Drinks.] 
This  liquor  is  too  rich  for  plugs  to  use  ; 
'Tis  a  choice  brand,  a  relic  of  antiquity. 
And  faith,  the  cobwebs  were  so  thick  upon  it 
I  took  it  for  a  hornet's  nest.        [Drinks.] 

Goahead.  You  are  a  Maine  man,  Sergeant, 

And  should  not  set  us  such  a  bad  example. 
"  Co7isiste)icy' s  a  jewel." 

Quill :  So  was  our  late  Postmaster-General.    Does  he 
drink  water '?  [dent. 

Goahead :  1  can  not  say.    They  talk  of  him  for  Presi- 


138 


LIGnTXING  FLASHES. 


Quill :  He  shall  have  my  vote  ;  anything  to  beat  Orton. 

Here's  to  Post-General  Consistency.     [Drinks.] 
Goahead:  Orton,  man  V— who  spoke  of  Orton? 

1  said,  "  of  the  United  States." 
Quill:  Aye,  'twas  a  good  line  ;  I  worked  on  it, 

And  so  did  Casa  B.  Anchor : 

But  this  insatiate  monster  gobbled  it. 
Goahead:  [Axidc]  Poor  boy  !  his  mind  is  wandering. 

I  fear  he  hath  a  touch  of  sunstroke. 
Quill:  Now  are  the  victims  of  our  fifteen  per  cent 

Made  glorious  bummers  by  this  son  of— York  ; 

And  all  the  champions  that  subbed  about  our  line 

In  the  deep  bosom  of  the  opposition  buried. 
Goahead :  Alas  !  poor  Ghost. 
Quill:  Now  are  our  dinners  eaten  in  undue  haste  ; 

Our  bruised  arms  our  sole  emoluments ; 

Our  pow-wows  changed  to  indignation  meetings ; 

Grim-visag'd ■ 

OMrirh:  [Within]  Bravo  !    Give  it  to  them,  lad  ! 
[Exit  Quill  and  Goaliead.     He-enter  Lepidus  Patrick  and 
soldiers.] 
Zd  Operator :  Here  is  a  copy  of  The  Operator. 

Just  captured  from  ihe  traitor  Ostrich. 
L.Hitrirk:  Let  me  peruse  it.     'Tis  a  spicy  sheet, 

But  independent.    They  say  our  honored  presi- 
dent. 

Heaven  bless  him,  hates  it  as  a  plug  hates  salt. 

Why,  here  is  Ctesar's  epitaph— a  most  vile  slander; 

I'll  go  show  this  to  Antony.     [Exit.] 

Scene  2.  [The  operatir>(j-room.  Antony  Brown  seated  at 
Minaf/er^s  desk ;  Pliers  and  sevc^-al  operators  stand- 
in(j  near.    Enter  an  operator.] 

Opei-ator :  General,  the  forces  of  the  A.  &  P. 
Do  hither  come,  intent  on  our  destruction. 
The  manager  hath  sworn  to  give  no  ciuarter  ; 
The  people  cry,  '■'■  Long  live  ttie  opposition  !  " 
And  since  this  doleful  news  hath  reached  our  lines 
The  soldiers  have  become  demoralized. 

Antony :  This  story  is  a  hoax,  some  idle  rumor 
That  Brutus  Armature  hath  given  shape  to, 
And  indirectly  sent  into  our  lines. 
Hoping  thereby  he  may  create  a  panic. 
But  if  'twere  true,  this  opposition  rabble 
Will  never  dare  to  meet  us  in  the  field  ; 
The  very  name  of  Western  Unwn  Telegraph 
Doth  chill  them  to  the  marrow  of  their  bones. 
When  we  have  squared  accounts  with  these  con- 
spirators. 
We  will,  if  their  brief  courage  hold,  chastise  them. 
Go  !  tell  the  boys  they  should  not  give  such  cred- 
ence to  idle  rumors.     [Exit  operator.] 
Pliers,  a  word  with  you  : 
I  do  not  like  this  news.     If  we  escape 
The  swords  of  traitors,  now  aimed  at  our  throats, 
We  live  but  to  become  the  cringing  slaves 
Of  this  proud  opposition.    Our  game  lies  here. 
To  make  such  terms  with  this  most  worthy  man- 
ager 
Of  A.  &  P.  as  will  insure  employment 
For  vou  and  I  and  all  within  the  ring. 
As  for  the  other  plugs,  when  we  have  used  them 
To  wreak  our  vengeance  upon  Ca3Sar'8  murderers, 
Why,  they  may  go  to  grass.     See  to  it.  Pliers, 
And  make  some'contraet  ere  they  learn  our  plight ; 
Por  we  will  finesse  though  we  cannot  fight. 

Pliers:  I  will  dispatch  a  messenger  forthwith, 

[Enter  Lepidus  Patrick.] 
Here  comes  Lepidus ;   mayhap  he  brings  some 
news. 

Antony:  What  cheer,  my  hearty? 

L.  Patrick:  Ostrich,  the  plume,  by  valiant  Quill  is 
slain. 
Within  the  traitor's  pocket  we  did  find 
This  paper.    Kead  it,  noble  Antony. 
Antony:  The  Operator!     What's  here,  Caesar's  epi- 
taph ? 
The  scoundrels  !     [Heads.] 

Pause,  lineman,  do  not  set  your  pole  so  near  this 
hallowed  mound, 


Just  hitch  a  wire  to  my  heels  and  set  mcfor  a  ground. 
Ill  days  of  yore,  I  used  to  work  the  dujilcx  aud  the 

quad  ; 
Put  7tow.  alas  !  1  'm  only  fit  to  ground  a  lightning  rod. 
Jlcrc  lie  I,  C'wsar,  killed  with  a  bar  of  iro7i,  so  they  say; 
It  matters  not;  I  vioidd  have  run  but  traitors  barred 

the  way : 
Anc^when  I  tried  to  call  for  help,  to  do  so  was  a  poser; 
For  Brutus  threw  an  iron  weight  and  broke  my  circuit 
closer. 
ls<    Operator:  Confound  it !— that  paper  should    be 

suppressed. 
2d  Operator :  'Tis  a  most  villainous  sheet,  certainly  ; 

And  the  editor  of  it  is  a  bad  egtr. 
2d  Operator :  What  right  has  he  to  publish  a  better 
paper 
Than  our  oflTicial  Journal — the  blackguard  ? 
He  will  aspire  to  be  one  of  Conkliug's  backers, 
yet. 
Ist  Operator:  Aye,   and  help  frown  down  the  Civil 

Service  reform. 
ud  Operator:  The  superintendent  done  a  good  chore 
for  the  company 
Wlien  he  turned  this  fellow  out  of  office. 
[Enter  lieportcrs  for  the  Jozirnal  of  the  Telegraph  and  boy.] 
Boy:  General,  a  reporter  for  Tue  Operator  desires 

an  audience.  [Exit.] 

Antony :  Seize  him  ! 

[Peporter  is  dragged  fortvard.] 
Art  thou  reporting  for  Tue  Operator  ? 
Pe2iorter :  Indeed,  sir,  I  am  not ;  I'm  for  the  Jmirnal. 
Antony :  Thy  subterfuge  comes  too  late. 

This  slanderous  article  upon  the  death  of  Caesar, 
I  nothing  doubt  thou  art  the  author  of, 
And  thou  shalt  eat  thy  words— aye,  every  scrap 
And  morsel  of  the  paper.     Peed  him,  Lepidus. 
Here  are  the  advertisements  ;  eat  those  first. 
Lepidus:  Heard  you  what  the  General  said?    Come, 

cat! 
Reporter ;  No,  thank  you,  1  have  no  stomach  for  it — 

Nay,  I  protest. 
Antony :  Thou  protest !    Pliers,  go  bring  your  fixings  ; 
We'll  let  this  snoozer  feel  our  bastinado. 

[Some  of  the  operators  take  off  reporter\<i  shoes  a7id  stockings; 
others  conjiect  two  wires  with  tlie  .^witch-board,  and 
ai)ply  the  ends  to  the  soles  of  his  feet.  The  reporter 
jumps  ten  feet  in  the  air  at  the  first  application.] 

Reporter :  Oh  !  oh  !  oh!    Stop  !  let  up  !  let  up  ! 

Hold,  I  have  found  my  appetite. 
Antony :  Then  eat,  and  thank  your  stars,  my  friend, 

That  you  got  off  so  easily. 
Lepidus :  Now,  then,  here  you  are. 
Iiqx)rter:  Oh,  skip  the  advertisements. 
Antony :  Not  a  letter  of  them.     Come,  begin. 

[Reporter  eats  part  of  the  paper]. 
Reporter:  Now  let  me  go — I've  had  enough,  I  say. 
Antony :  Wilt  try  the  bastinado  once  again  ? 
Rei)ortcr :  Not  if  the  Court — [Eats  balance  of  the  paper.] 

This  is  my  first  experience  with  the  newspaper 
sag. 

If  dinner  is  over,  I  will  e'en  take  my  departure. 
Antony :  What  did  he  say  ?  [Exit.] 

Iliers :  He  said  his  stomach  felt  like  a  mail  bag. 
Antony :  I  doubt  it  not.    Mayhap  he  will  remember  us 

When  next  he  takes  his  slanderous  pen  in  hand. 
[Enter  a  messenger.] 

Messenger:  Brutus  and  Indigo,  their  forces  all  in  arms, 
Are  forming  column  in  the  lower  corridor : 
Aud  from  a  messenger,  our  pock  pickets   did 

surprise 
Upon  the  staircase,  we  learned  of  their  intent 
To  give  us  battle  ere  the  day  is  spent. 

Antony :  Pliers  and  Lepidus,  fall  in  your  companies. 
This  is  brave  news.    To  arms  !  to  arms  !  I  say. 
Let  the  drum  sound  !  we'll  meet  the  rogues  half 

way. 
Lepidus  Patrick,  you  command  alone  ; 
For,  in  this  fight  I  play  the  great  unknown  ; 


'THE  CARNIVAL' OF  OSHKOSH.' 


139 


When  on  the  others  they  have  spent  their  force, 
And  all  our  champions  put  combat  du  horse, 
Then  shout  you  all,  in  voices  loud  and  shrill, 
Here  comes  the  conqncrcr  of  soft -s/u  lied  Bill. 
Then  will  I  dawn  upon  their  rapt  attention  ; 
And,  nothing  split,  we'll  carry  the  convention. 

BCEKE  3.  \_The  vp2)er  corridor.    Enter  Quill,  GoaTiead,  and 

./t)/TfS.] 

Quill :  Halt !    Ki^ht  dress  !— every  eye  to  the  right- 
Front  !    Steady  on  the  right !— why  do  you  not 
fall  back  ? 
Goahead :  I  am  Orderly  Sergeant,  you  lunkhead. 
Quill :  Thou  art  anything  but  orderly. 

Stand  further  back,  I  prithee. 
Goahead :  I  ?    Never  !    I  will  not  yield  an  inch  of  my 
rights 
For  the  best  captain  of  infantry  that  ever  wore 

sword — 
On  the  wrong  side  of  his  body. 
Qicill :    We  shall  have  thee  drawn  and  quartered  for 
this  ; 
Ay,  and  court  martialcd,  too.    Thou  plug  ! 
Thou  art  Thief  Major  of  the  regiment. 
Come,  now,  who  was  it  that  purloined  my  stock- 
ings 
This  morning,  early,  ere  I  had  got  up  ? 
Goahead:  I  never  knew  before  that  you  wore  stock- 
ings ; 
What  ails  the  man  ?— he  will  tell  us  next 
That  some  one  has  stolen  his  moral  character. 
[Elder  Antontj,  Lepidus,  and  Fliers.] 
Quill :  Present  arms  ! 

I'liers :  The  leaders  of  the  opposing  force  would  parley. 
Antony :  We'll  join  them  in  their  war-dance.     Captain 
Qnill, 
Your  troops  are  most  excellently  drawn  up. 
Goahead:  General,  whate'er  our  valiant  Captain  doth 
Is  done  at  right  angles. 
The  seam  ofhis  coat,  the  parting  of  his 
Back  hair  and  the  crest  of  his  helmet, 
Are  all  in  one  straight  line. 

Suill:  Fall  back,  Sergeant. 
oahead :  Away,  Hercules,  or  I  shall  blow  thee  over, 

Enier  Brutus,  Indigo,  Hans,  Shrub,  aiul  Vasa  B.  Anchor, 
with  forces.] 

Indigo :  Stand ! 

Antony :  Who  goes  there  with  so  bold  an  air. 

Brutus:  One,  my  dear  sir,  who  will  raise  your  hair. 

Quill :  Just  hear  that  pig  squeal. 

Goahead :  He's  got  the  mumps. 

Casa  B. :  It  is  your  cut  and  your  deal ; 
Clubs  are  trumps. 

Indigo:  Look,  what  a  batch  of  awkward,  green  re- 
cruits— 

A  pack  of  monkeys  dressed  in  iron  suits  ; 
And  here's  Lepidus,  armed  from  head  to  toe — 

L.  Patrick :  Rail  on,  thou  deep  and  dark-blue  Indigo. 

bhruh :  Oh,  come  to  our  husking,  this  brag  is  in  vain  ; 
Come  take  a  few  lessons  in  legerdomain. 

Pliers:  While  bugle  sounds  pariey  you  safely  may 
croak ; 
When  words  change  to  blows  I  will  make  you  re- 
voke ; 
The  worst  you  can  do  is  to  slander  and  scoff — 

CasaB.:  [Sings.]  "And  tlie  polliwog''s  danced  till  t/tcir 
tails  dropped  oj?'." 
Peace,  old  crossarm. 

Aiitony :  Withdraw  our  forces  for  the  battle. 

AMay  !     [Exeunt  Antooiy,  Lepidus,  Pliers,  Quill,  and 
Goahead,  and  their  troopis.] 

Bi-utus:  The  army  of  the  A.  »fc  P.  come  bravely  on. 
We  should  make  terms  with  them  ere  they  arrive  ; 
Or  else,  whate'er  betide  our  present  fortunes. 
We  lose  the  game  at  last.    I  do  not  think 
Of  all  our  number  there  can  one  be  found 
"Who  willingly  would  render  up  his  place 
"Within  our  ranks,  upon  the  eve  of  battle, 
And  hazard  all  his  chances  of  renown  ; 
Yet  some  one  must  be  found  to  play  the  courier; 
Come,  who  shall  it  be  ? 


Casa  B. :  I  herewith  sacrifice  my  love  of  glory. 

And  take  upon  myself  this  arduous  duty. 
Hans :  Thou  shalt  not  make  such  sacrifice  for  us. 

Stay,  Casa,  I  will  bear  this  dispatch. 
Shi-ub :  Not  so,  you  will  be  needed  in  the  field ; 

Let  me  perform  the  tasK. 
Indigo:  Brave  boys— [Aside]  Oh,  what  a  set  of  cow- 
ards ! 

Come,  here  is  a  pack  of  cards  ; 

Ye  shall  draw  lots  for  it. 
Shrub :  Cut  for  it ;  the  first  jack  wins, 
Casa  B. :  Let  me  shuffle  those  cards.    [Takes  the  pack 

and  conceals  a  card  in  his  sleeve.] 
Hans :  Let's  have  a  square  deal,  Casa. 
Shrub:  Ay,  and  no  necromancy  about  it. 
Hans:  [Draws.]  The  Queen  of  Diamonds  ! 

Confound  the  luck,  this  is  a  poor  beginning. 

I  never  was  successful  with  the  women. 
Shrub :    [Draws.]  The  King  of  Hearts  ! 

Deil  take  Dame  Fortune,  she  is  always  coy. 
Casa  B. :  She  sends  a  man  where  she  should  send  a 

boy.     [Draws.] 

The  Jack  of  Clubs  ! 

Oh,  Jack,  you  beauty  !    Good  for  you,  old  pard. 

[Aside.]  Honors  ai-e  easy,  but  I  am  one  bv  card. 

[Exit.] 
Brutus :  Fare  thee  well,  honest  soldiers. 

And  now,  to  arms  !    Ho  !  let  the  bugle's  blast 

Proclaim  our  coming  !    Now  the  dye  is  cast ; 

Upon  the  issue  hangs  our  future  weal. 

And  win  we  must,  or  to  a  tyrant  kneel. 

Forward,  my  lads  !    When  this  day's  work  is  done, 

I  look  to  see  the  field  of  Oshkosh  won  ; 

But  if  it  chance  our  overthrow  Is  wrought, 

Let  cowards  live  to  tell  how  brave  men  fought. 

(Exeuiit.) 
Scene  4.  {The  same.    Alarum.    Xoise  of  battle  uWiin.  En- 
ter from  opposite  sides  Lepidus  and  Indigo.) 

Indigo :  Nay,  stand  thou  there  if  thou  but  dare  tear 
hair ; 

I'll  bung  thy  eye,  if  thou  dost  fly,  sky  high. 
L.  Patrick :  When  did  I  run  from  any  one  gun's  son  ? 

While  daylight  shows  I'll  give  my  foe's  nose 
blows.     {Theyfight.) 

Oh,  drat  your  sword  !     I'm  gored  !   b-bored— 
floored.     (Exeunt.) 
Scene  5.  {Thesanve.    Another  part  of  the  corridor.    Enter 
Croahead. ) 
Goahead :  Now  would  I  give  all  my  wordly  goods 

For  a  safe  hiding  place. 

These  conspirators  are  terrible  fellows. 

And  have  nearly  frightened  my  life  out  of  mc 

With  their  bloody  swords — confound  them. 

'Tis  most  fortunate  there  are  none  here, 

For  1  can  run  no  further — my  wind  is  clean  gone. 

What's  that !    (Enter  Quill,  running.) 

Is  that  j-ou.  Captain  Quill  ? 
Quill :  Stand,  traitor !  Draw  thy  sword  an'  thou  darest. 

Twelve  of  thy  brethren  have  1  dispatched, 

And  thou  wilt  make  a  baker's  dozen  of  them. 

Draw,  traitor  ! 
Goahead:  Hold,  Captain,  I  am  Goahead,  your  friend. 
Quill :  Goahead  ?   What !  why  so  it  is,  sure  enough. 

Give  us  thy  hand,  lad.    How  camest  thou  here? 

By  the  sword  of  Sobieski,  I  took  thee  for  a  traitor, 
GoaJicad :  Where  were  you  runping  to  so  fast, 

Valiant  Captain  ? 
Q2iill :    Running  ?    Why,  I  was  in  pursuit  of  the  en- 
emy. 

Faith  I  did  run,  but  the  cowardly  conspirators 

Kan  better,  else  had  I  overtaken  them. 

That  traitor  Hans  I  wounded  in  the  stomach, 

And  would  have  slain  him  had  not  Shrub  the  sub- 
stitute 

Come  to  his  aid  and  stabbed  me  in  the  back. 
Goahead :  There  is  no  more  blood  on  thy  back 

Thau  there  was  in  Shylocks  bond. 
Quill :  Go  to  ;— and  then  I  chased  them  both  up-stairs, 
(Enter  Hans,  Goahead  Jiies.) 

And  through  the— 


140 


LIGHTNING  FLASHES. 


J^rutiis :  "  Behold  this  Blade,  the  Saber  of  my  Pa, 

I  DIPPED  ITS  Point  in  yonder  Batteky  Jab  1 " 


THE  CARNIVAL  OF  OSHKOSH. 


141 


Hctns :  Have  at  you,  villain  ! 

Quill :  For  the  love  of  goodness,  don't ! 

Mans :  Draw,  and  defend  yourself. 

Quill;  Good  Hans,  I  always  loved  thee  much, 

Oh,  stop !    "" 
Hans :  Thou  art 


Have  a  cigar  ? 


coward  I  have 


the  most 
seen  yet. 
Hand  over  that  sword. 
Quill :  Here  it  is  ;  1  surrender — unconditionally. 
Hans :  What  ransom  can'st  thou  pay  ? 
Quill:  I  will  pay  a  cigar,  a  glass  of  beer, 

And  a  switzer  cheese  sandwich. 
ITans :  Thou  art  saved.    I  will  keep  thee  for  ransom. 
Forward— guide  right— march! 

(Exit,  driving  him  out.) 

SCKNE  6.  {The  sa>yie.    Enter  Indigo,  wounded.) 

Indiqo :  I  can  fly  no  further  ;  here  must  I  stand  at  bay. 

Whose  there  ?    {Enter  Goahtad.) 

Come  hither,  lad  ;  1  will  not  harm  thee. 
Goahead :  But  I  am  not  insured  against  accidents. 
Indigo:  What  side  dost  thou  belong  to  ? 
Goahead :  The  winning  side,  whichever  that  may  be. 
Indigo :  Ha  !  thou  art  wise  beyend  thy  years  ; 

What  is  thy  name  ? 
Goahead :  Marquis  Non  de  Plume. 
Indigo:  A  plume  ;  but  thou  art  something  of  an  op- 
erator ; 

Thou  knowest  the  alphabet,  I  dare  be  sworn  ; 

If  so,  thou  art  of  our  fraternity ; 

I  made  a  vow  ne'er  to  be  taken  alive  ; 

Hold  thou  my  sword  while  I  do  run  against  it. 
Goahead :  With  pleasure.    Here  you  are  ;  come  on. 
Indigo:  That  point  is  something  sharp  ;  the  other  end 

"Will  do  as  well,  and  will  not  hurt  so  much. 
Goahead :  What !  reverse  arms  ?    All  right,  sir  ; 

You  pays  your  money  and  you  takes  your  choice. 
Indigo:  In  this  device  there  is  no  room  for  scandal ; 

Brutus,  I  die— upon  mine  own  sword  handle. 

{Suns  on  the  hilt  of  his  sivord  and  dies.) 
Goahead:  This  was  the  nobbiest  showman  of  them  all. 

If  I  could  but  borrow  a  handsaw  now, 

I  would  cut  me  off  this  rooster's  head, 

And  swear  I  killed  him  in  fair  fight. 

Perhaps  I  can  drag  him  to  the  repairer's  den. 

Come,  Indigo,  I  must  borrow  your  scalp. 

{Exit,  dragging  out  the  body.) 

Scene  7.  {The  same.    Enter  Brutus  and  Antony,  Jighting. 
Antony  is  wounded.) 
Brutus :  A  hit ! 


Antony :  A  scratch,  more  like  ;  thy  eyes  were  shut 

When  thou  didst  make  the  lunge.     {They  fight.) 
Brutus :  Let  up,  my  arm's  tired, 
Antony:  Die,  traitor  !    {Brutus  falls.) 
Brutus :  I  pass.    Oh,  Antony,  be  not  so  brave  ; 

Thou  hast  the  trick,  but  I  have  played  the  knave; 
Behold  this  blade,  the  saber  of  my  pa, 
I  dipped  its  point  in  yonder  battery  jar. 

(Dies  happy.) 
Antony :  So  all  your  traitorous  band  this  hour  shall 
rue  ; 
What  said  the  rogue — that  he  had  chalked  his  cue  ? 
I'm  poisoned  sure  ;  the  thought  is  somewhat  vex- 
ing, 
But  never  mind,  we  all  must  pass  our  checks  in. 
(Dies  with  much  comjwsure  and  considerable  style.) 

(Enter  Hiers,  Quill,  and  Goahead.) 
Quill :  I  am  all  that  is  left  of  the  54th  ; 

The  colored  troops  were  all  mowed  down, 

And  now  go  scooting  through  the  town. 

Strategy  is  the  great  point  in  war  ; 

I  might  have  slain  Hans  in  fair  fight, 

But  instead  I  allowed  him  to  take  me  prisoner, 

And  then  beguiled  him  into  ambush  ; 

And  there  the  traitor  fell — beneath  the  sabers 

Of  some  half  dozen  of  our  Christian  neighbors. 
Hiers :  I  find  no  trace  of  Casa  B. 

Can  he  have  fled  to  A.  &  P.  ? 

Bold  Shrub  I  butchered  at  one  blow. 
Goahead:  And  here's  the  head  of  Indigo. 
(Enter  manager  of  the  A.  &  P.  and  forces,  and  Casa  B. 

Anchor. ) 
CasaB.:  Behold  the  murderers  of  Caesar, 
Manager :  Seize-er  them.     (Pliers,  Quill,  and  Goahead 

are  arrested. ) 
Casa  B.:  (aside)  1  think  that's  the  odd  trick. 
Manager:  The  Union  halls  resound  beneath  our  tread, 

And  at  our  feet  monopoly  lies  dead. 

Here  on  the  walls  of  this  old  inquisition 

We  set  our  flag. 
All.  Long  live  the  opposition  ! 
Opr.  What  shall  we  do  with  the  prisoners  ? 
Manager.  These  three  we'll  have  decapitated  ; 

The  rest  shall  be  most  soundly  rated  ; 

And  if  they  hope  to  get  their  dues. 

They'd  better  mind  their  P's  and  Q's. 

Bear  hence  the  bodies. 
[Exeu7it.  Bead  March— '^  ^Yhen  Johnny  Comes  March- 

ing  Home.] 
Applause.  Curtain.  Boquets. 


JTJST    XSST7:E3X>! 

Third  Edition  of  the  Spicy,  Attractive,  Entertaining,  and  Popular  "Work, 

OAKUM  PICKINGS. 

A  Miscellaneous  Collection  of  Stories^  Sketches^  Essays^  and  Para- 
(fraphSf  Telegraphic  and  General^  contributed  from  time  to  time 
to  the  Telegraphic  Papers,  JVeiv  York  Graphic,  Hearth  and  Home, 
Danbury  News,  and  other  first-class  Journals^  by  3Ir.  Walter  JP. 
PhillipSf  Assistant  General  Agent  Ifew  York  Associated  Press, 
under  the  nom  de  2)lffine  of  John  OaJcum,  tvith  a  fine  Steel  Plate 
Portrait  of  the  Author. 

Third  Edition,  188  pp. ;  Medium  12mo ;  Full  Cloth,  $1.50 ;  Paper,  76  Cts. 

The  demand  for  coi^ies  of  Oakusi  Pickings  has  been  so  great  that  already  two  entire  editions 
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important  additions  and  improvements  at  increased  outlay,  which  it  is  believed,  will  make  the  book 
a  still  greater  favorite,  and  secure  for  it  an  even  more  extensive  circulation  and  ai^preciation. 

Mr.  Phillips,  the  author,  is  so  well  known  to  the  fraternity  as  a  spicy,  original,  witty,  entertain- 
ing, and  popular  contributor  to  the  current  telegraphic  and  humorous  literature  of  the  day,  and  his 
character  sketches  of  "  Jim  Lawless,"  "  Tip  McClosky,"  "  Posie  Van  Dusen,"  "  Cap.  De  Costa,"  etc., 
have  won  for  him  so  enviable  a  reputation  as  a  humorous  sketch  writer,  that  this  opportunity  of  pos- 
sessing a  copy  or  his  very  choicest  writings— the  cream  of  his  contributions  to  the  telegraphic  and 
general  press — in  one  handsomely-bound  volume,  at  a  remarkably  reasonable  price,  will,  we  feel  cer- 
tain be  considered  a  rare  treat  by  many  hundreds  of  telegraphers  and  others  who  have  made  his  ac- 
quaintance through  these  sketches. 

CONTENTS    OF    OAKUM    PICKINGS. 

The  book  is  divided  into  two  parts.  Part  first  contains  137  pages,  embracing  sketches,  stories, 
essays,  etc.,  each  having  a  separate  title,  while  part  second,  from  page  128  to  the  end,  contains  thirty- 
three  Minor  Paragraphs,  or  short  articles  without  titles.     The  contents  are : 

Love  and  Lightning,  Little  Tip  McClosky,  Block  Island, 

Old  Jim  Lawless,  Stage  Coaching,  Bad  Medicine, 

Thomas  Johnson,  Posle  Van  Dusen,  The  Bloodless  Onslaught, 

Cap  De  Costa,       •_  The  Blue  and  The  Gray,  Statistics, 

Uncle  Daniel,  An  Autumn  Episode,  Departed  Days, 

Summer  Recreation,  An  Old  Man's  Exegesis.  Minor  Paragraphs. 

TJiree  Copies  "  OAKUM  PICKINGS  "  sent,  jyost  2)aid,  on  receipt  $1.00, 

®et  two  of  your  friends  to  join  you  and  order  three  copies  at  this  extremely  low  price.  Order 
through  any  of  our  Agents,  or  direct  from  this  oflice. 

"THE  OPERATOR"  One  Year,  aud  a  Copy  of  OAKt  31  PICKINGS,  ouly  $1.75. 

Every  Telegrapher,  not  now  a  subscriber  to  The  Operator,  a  lively,  wide-awake,  interesting,  and 
thoroughly  can't-do-without  telegraph  journal,  should  embrace  this  offer.     Orders  and  money  can  be 
Ecnt  to  "any  authorized  Agent,  or  to  the  Publisher  of  The  Operator,  P.  O.  Box  3,333,  New  York. 
What  the  Newspaper  Press  have  to  say  of  "  Oakum  Pickings." 

There  is  not  a  dull  page  in  the  work. — Tckgro.pher. 
Orijrina]   and  unique,  humorous  and  pathetic. —  Au- 
gusta Vhronide. 
If  you  can  read  the  book  without  saying^  "  John,  go 


Hi2:hly  amusins: — ^-  ^'  Times. 

Bright,  witty,  aud  full  of  Xwxmor. —Piiblishers'  Weekly. 

Short,  realistic,  lively  sketches,  illustrative  of  his  own 
profession. — N.  Y.  Tribh^.e. 

The  stories  are  short,  tiri^i;ht,well  written,  and  possess 
aflavorof  originality  really  attractive.— A\  Y.  Telegram. 

The  book  is  made  up  of  short,  lively,  clever,  amus- 
ing, aud  very  readable  sketches.  No  book  recently  is- 
sued is  better  adapted  to  while  away  a  tedious  hour. 
— New  York  Dispatch. 


and  do  some  more,"  you  are  less  susceptible  to  what  is 
good  than  we  are.  Try  it,  and  see. — Elmira  Advertiser. 
Tlie  best  fancies  of  a  fertile  brain,  smooth  in  style, 
and  epigrammatic,  but  not  flashy.  There  is  in  them  all 
a  quiet  undercurrent  of  quaint  dryness,  that  is  irresist- 
ably  attractive. — American  bookseller. 


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Price,  prepaid  by  mail,  only  25  Cent*.  We  have  only  a 
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the  art.  It  shows  the  numerous  crosses,  medals, 
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with  promptness  and  dispatch.      While  we  will  make 

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we  shall  also  give  prompt  and  personal  attention  to  the  pur- 
chase of  anything  else  our  friends  may  require,  no  matter  wha. 
It  is.  or  in  what  line  of  business. 

On  account  of  our  position,  we  can  purchase  almost  erery 
kind  of  goods  much  cheaper  than  you  could,  were  you  on  the 
ground,  especially  Telegraphic  goods  of  every  description. 
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or  economical  his  principles. 

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